Bloodstained
by Greta
Summary: Tragedy strikes once more, leaving Usagi completely alone and damned to immortality. Leading a life of solitude, she is cursed to fight a new enemy: vampires. What will happen when a lone Starlight decides to return? Seiya/Usagi and utterly AU. R&R!
1. Chapter 1

Warning: This story is as A/U as it gets. If you don't like that, Seiya/Usagi romances, and a life after the Stars Saga, don't read on!

Here a small summary, so you lot won't be completely lost ;) : Chaos defeated and gone, Usagi and her friends settle down to their normal lives at last. But tragedy strikes once more, leaving Usagi not only utterly alone, but also immortal. The Gates of Time now unguarded, strange things start to happen, parallel universes overlapping, the forces of time jumbled. Usagi has to learn to get on alone, damned to eternity, fighting the new enemy that has come upon Tokyo: vampires. Time passes, leaving her almost unrecognizable to the shining star that returns to the blue planet one day.

You like? Then read on, my dears!

**ATTENTION**: I've rewritten huge chunks of the story, as I think the story desperately needed it. Some of the old parts might sill appear later on, so don't be surprised if something seems familiar. I also cut down the title (from "Bloodstained Angel" to "Bloodstained") to lose some of the drama ;-)

**WARNING**: This story is not for kiddies. There's gonna be swearing, violence, alcohol, maybe drugs, probably sex. If you can't handle that, please don't read it or at least don't complain.

* * *

**Bloodstained**

Chapter 1

by Greta

* * *

"Cheers," she said, raising the clear bottle of whiskey to the sky, leaning back against the rough trunk of a tree. Overlooking the city she had been protecting for far too long now, she sighed once, uncapping the bottle slowly before taking a large swallow of the amber liquid. She shuddered slightly as the alcohol left its fiery trail down her throat. Somehow she'd never get used to its taste.

But she felt like getting drunk tonight, very, very drunk. Her goal wasn't to feel stoned and plastered - no, today she needed to go further, much further. She wanted to reach that oh so sweet point of no return, where she could at last forget her mind and body, and let herself fall back into the open arms of sought-after unconsciousness. No thoughts or dreams would disturb her there for a few precious hours.

Closing her eyes while raising the glass bottle once more to her lips, she could feel her thoughts wander, wander off exactly to the place where she didn't want them, didn't need them. They were memories that she wanted to avoid like nothing else. But it was a useless attempt. After all, today was an anniversary, and it wasn't just any anniversary either. Not even she could deny this, try as hard as she might.

It was the anniversary of a day so long ago in the past that it seemed strange to her that she could still recall it exactly as it had been. Every small detail, every sound, every smell.

Her head leaning back heavily, her eyes shut for a moment and her pale fingers led the bottle of alcohol to rest beside her. Her face looked as if she was in pain.

She could remember it all. The cool air of the morning that had chilled her to the spine, letting goose bumps rise on her slender limbs, only small tufts of clouds marring the light blue sky, as she watched the day progress from her room, never once realising it would be the last time that she sat in her room in such a carefree manner.

She had used to love the sun spilling on a glorious day, its warm rays reaching her very core. But there was nothing wonderful about the sun for her anymore. All it did was remind her of what she didn't have, could never have again, over and over again.

Digging her nails into her palm, she forced herself to open her eyes, draining the whiskey faster. She needed to get away from these thoughts, _fast_.

"One hundred years," she whispered slowly to herself. "One hundred years …" she repeated softly. It felt like her body was being torn in two: a part of her couldn't bear to let her thoughts wander off, while another struggled to gain access to those memories. She had relived that one fateful day thousands of times; she had suffered like hell for years because of it. But she knew that today of all days, she couldn't bear a trip down memory lane. Scrunching up her forehead in thought, she tried to avert her thoughts. How old did this anniversary make her now? She laughed silently to herself as she realized that the years were getting hard to count.

"I guess you've really turned old, girl," she continued talking to herself, only the inky silence of the night there to keep her company. Normally she liked the dark and the quiet, she felt at ease on her own, with no one there watching her, crowding her. But today she couldn't help but feel as if the silence left far too much room for her thoughts.

The bright lights of Tokyo sparkled up at her, garish and unfriendly in all their bright neon colours. The long time she had known this city now, had, strangely enough, barely done a thing to change its scenery, only even higher, even more modern bodies of buildings taking over its centre.

Lifting her eyes from the city that had brought her so much pain up to the stars above, she grimaced at the moon hanging innocently in the sky, bright and full. It seemed to mock her in its peacefulness once again, having stayed behind in happier times. Oh, how she hated looking up at the moon. It never did her any good, the good memories it brought up in her making her as furious as the bad. "Fuck you," she muttered, her lips at the bottle once more, her swallows of whiskey becoming larger. The fiery burn of the whiskey was only half as bad as it had been before. She held out the bottle in front of her, measuring out how much of the liquid she had already drained with her fingers. A third of it was nearly gone.

"I think it's time for a toast," she mumbled, putting down the bottle on the ground before sitting up straight again. Her long and slender lags, clad in black high-heeled leather boots, were hanging over the edge of the narrow cobble-stone wall she was sitting on. That wall had already seen better days, as it was slowly crumbling into dust. It was after all older than she was, which did mean something nowadays. The low wall had been erected on an innocent-enough looking hill, which rose softly, only to turn into a steep cliff unexpectedly and without warning. The only thing that kept people from stumbling over the edge blindly was the little, crumbling stone wall she was sitting on. Her hands brushed the stone wind and weather had turned smooth and soft, before pushing herself to her feet.

There was no better view of Tokyo to be found, but she had yet to meet another living soul up here. The narrow wall gave her feet just enough space to stand upon it, her high-heeled shoes adding to the danger. But the danger left her cold and unexcited, she had lost her fear of death a long, long time ago. The steep cliff, with its jagged rocks, only morbidly fascinated her, especially in this darkness, where it seemed to be endless. Oh how nice it would be to just slip noiselessly into an eternal darkness.

Crouching down slightly she picked up the bottle once more. She stood there silently for a few minutes, her silver hair swaying in the breeze.

"To … to myself, these bloodstained fingers, and my curse of eternity upon this hell," she whispered to the sky, raising the bottle clenched tightly in-between her fingers up to the sky once more, before taking a large swallow of the alcohol.

As if in silent answer, a shooting star crossed the sky she had toasted to, passing the moon.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Please note that the number of the year the chapter takes place in is written at the beginning of each chapter from now on, as there will be quite a few flashbacks. The story will mainly be set in 1997, when the fifth season ended, and 100 years later, in 2097.**

* * *

**Bloodstained**

Chapter 2

By Greta

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_1997_

* * *

Usagi breathed in deeply as she spread her arms wide. She had had an exceptionally good day at school today – the last two hours had been cancelled due to one of her teachers turning sick, she had received a small praise for her homework and there had been a baking sale by students a few grades below her. The sun was shining brightly, and wasn't marred at all by the small white clouds crossing the sky at a rapid pace. The wind was heavy, cherry blossoms were being tossed around wildly in the air. Oh, how beautiful it was today! Usagi smiled as she breathed in the smell of the cherry blossoms, her eyes closed, the sun bright red behind her closed eyelids.

She heard giggles, and abruptly put her arms down, a small blush rising on her cheeks. A group of three small girls was looking in her direction, laughing behind their hands. She must have looked foolish, standing there in the middle of the sidewalk with her arms spread wide and her head thrown back, a large plastic bag dangling from one hand. She stuck out her tongue at them, before breaking into a small jog. She really needed to hurry up a bit, she reminded herself.

She was planning on using the extra time she had gained from school finishing earlier that day to prepare a small surprise for Mamoru, and she only had two hours left before he'd be home from university. Mamoru was now in the final stages of his education and was working non-stop, so that the two of them had not had the chance to spend some quality time together for many weeks now. Books were piled high on Mamoru's desk, and whenever she visited him at his place he was hidden somewhere behind them. Usagi sighed. It would be nice to have her Mamo-chan all to herself again, but she understood him. Becoming a doctor was his dream, and she would support him with all her might.

Smiling, she sped up on her way home.

* * *

"What are you doing, Usagi-chan?"

Usagi looked up from the kitchen counter, where she was packing a small picnic basket, to see her mother enter the room. Ikuko wiped her hands on her apron and looked questioningly at the basket and the things that it was seemingly to be filled with. There was a big plate of cookies and some cupcakes, all daintily decorated with sprinkles and little sugary flowers. Beside it lay a batch of lopsided sandwiches, some squashed looking chocolate muffins, cut fruit in various sizes, and napkins with little bunnies printed all over them.

"Hello Mama!" Usagi grinned, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear with a chocolaty finger. "I'm making a lunch basket for Mamo-chan. He's so busy all the time right now that he never eats properly. I thought I'd surprise him." She told her mother this while rummaging around in the kitchen cupboards, and yelped as her finger got caught between the closing cupboard doors.

Ikuko laughed softly at her clumsy daughter. "Oh, that sounds lovely. I bet it'll be the most wonderful surprise for him!" She smiled softly. "Do you want me to help you?"

Usagi shook her head. "No, no, I want it to be _my_ surprise for him, I should do all of it alone. Well apart from the cookies and the cupcakes of course, I bought those at school ... Maybe I should leave them away after all? I didn't bake them myself ... But they first gave me the idea to make Mamo-chan a basket ... Oh ... " Usagi pondered aloud while eyeing the cookies and the cupcakes critically, one finger on her chin.

Ikuko laughed. "Oh, I'm sure he won't mind that. Take them along, never mind that someone else made them. He'll only be proud that you supported your school community." Ikuko winked.

"Hm ... Yeah, you're probably right!" Usagi smiled, and breathed out in relief. She really hadn't wanted to bake anything else. First of all, it was only bound to end in a disaster. She had only managed to safe her muffins from being burned to a crisp in the nick of time; she had tried hiding the slightly burnt parts with chocolate icing, which she had by now mainly managed to get all over herself. And second of all, she was already running very late. Mamoru would be home in forty minutes, and she needed around half an hour to get to his place. She made a face at the clock hanging in the kitchen. „Oh, I'm so running late!"

"You go upstairs and get ready, I'll pack your basket."

"Oh, you're the best mother ever! Thank you!" Usagi pecked Ikuko on the cheek before dashing upstairs and going straight to the bathroom to sort out her chocolate icing problem. She donned a new light pink dress and redid her Odangos, while stuffing her handbag.

"You're home early." Luna yawned as she spoke from her position on Usagi's bed, where she had slept curled up in the sun.

"Yeah, school ended early today. I'm off to Mamo-chan's, see you later!" Usagi said, petting Luna's black head softly. The cat only nodded and closed her eyes again, ready for another nap in the wonderfully warm sun.

Usagi sprinted downstairs and grabbed the basket Ikuko was holding ready for her.

"Greet Mamoru-san from me."

"I will! Bye Mama, see you in the evening! And thanks again!" Usagi put on her shoes, grabbed her bag and jogged off down the street towards the bus station.

* * *

Usagi straightened out a few wrinkles of her dress in the elevator on her way up to Mamoru's floor, before making a face at herself in the elevator's mirror. A small "ting" told her that she had reached the 5th floor. Usagi spun around and practically bounced out of the elevator, a big smile on her face. Oh, she really hoped that he hadn't been home too long already and had already started cooking for himself. How nice it would be to sit down to the lunch she had prepared together and talk and joke and just be together for a bit. She had really missed this in the last few months.

Stopping in front of his door, she knocked. As no one answered, Usagi tried again, this time a bit louder. Maybe he was in the bathroom or in his bedroom and hadn't heard her, she thought. But still, no answer. Usagi frowned a bit, and rung the bell instead. Normally she tried to avoid it, as it made the most horrible screeching sound that would make anyone jump a mile in their seats if they weren't expecting it. But again, no answer. She rung once more, leaving her finger on the bell for a few seconds.

A door burst open. "Cut it out, won't you? I'm trying to nap here! How about trying it with a key?" An old, grumpy man snapped at her. He was leaning out of the door from the apartment next to Mamoru's.

"Ehehehe ... I'm really sorry, please excuse the noise." Usagi bowed apologetically in front of him. He only frowned before slamming the door shut again. Usagi sighed and put down the basket at her feet, balancing her handbag on her leg to rummage through it in search of her keys. _Strange_, she thought. _I was sure he told me he'd be home by noon today._ Usagi shrugged. Oh well, maybe a lesson of his had lasted longer than he had thought.

"Ha-ha!" Usagi had found the key, holding it up in front of her triumphantly. She fumbled around a bit with it before she managed to open the door, which, to her surprise, wasn't locked. Usagi frowned as she picked up the basket. Was he home after all?

Usagi stepped inside the apartment, and took off her shoes. "Mamo-chan, are you home?"

But no answer met her. As she entered the hallway to the living room she couldn't help but feel a bit nervous. Where was he? As she stepped closer, she could see that a light was on in the living room. "Mamo-chan?" she tried again, this time a bit louder.

And then she entered the living room. A loud clanking noise met her ears as her keys landed on the floor, along with the picnic basket she had been carrying. Some of the food slipped out, a particularly round muffin rolling away a meter or so, stopping only short of the blood. Usagi's eyes widened as her throat seemed to close so that she could hardly breathe anymore.

Blood, oh there was so much blood.

No wonder Mamoru had not answered her. He was lying on the floor in front of his desk in an awkward angle on his back, his clothes drenched in blood seeping from countless wounds from all over his body. His limbs stuck out at strange angles and looked broken, an expression of utter pain was etched onto his face. Books lay scattered around him, some covered in deep red hand prints.

Usagi tried to whisper his name as she stumbled backwards, tripping over an upended chair. She lost her balance and landed on the floor, slipping slightly. Looking down at herself she saw blood on her foot and on her dress where she had landed. Her hands shook as she tried to back away as far as she could, stopping only when she hit against a wall. Her body trembled as she looked at the wall that was in her way, and could do nothing but scream when she saw more blood smeared all over it.

* * *

Running, running, running as fast as she could.

Her feet hurt, she was sure she had stepped on something sharp along the way, but putting on her shoes again had been of no importance. She just had to run away as fast as her legs could carry her. People she passed along the way were a blur, tears running down her cheeks hotly. Again and again she saw his face in her mind, that expression of pain, his crippled body, and all the blood ... She couldn't get rid of the smell. She vaguely recognized that her bag was still hanging from her shoulder.

She had had no idea where she was running to until a car passed her, its driver listening to classical music. _They_ lived around here, of course.

Her feet flew along the pavement as sobs racked her body. She wiped at her face with her right hand, which was covered in blood and nearly stopped in her tracks upon seeing it. But a voice inside her stopped her from doing so. Keep going, don't think, don't think, don't think, you mustn't think of it. She knew that if she stopped running now she would never reach Haruka's and Michiru's home, she would just sink down and cry and never get up again. Some part of her knew this and tried to keep her sane by distracting her mind from the scene she was running away from. Maybe Setsuna was there too, she'd know it was all just a terrible, horrible, stupid mistake, some twisted joke maybe, or nothing else than a very bad dream.

Usagi stopped in front of an elegant house hidden slightly behind tall trees. She couldn't imagine how she had actually made it here, but her feet carried her through the iron gate and up to the front door. She didn't bother to knock, throwing the door open as she ran inside.

"Haruka? Michiru? Please answer me! I need you!" Usagi yelled, her voice cracking as sobs racked her body. She was wheezing from all the running, there was an irony taste in her mouth. "Haruka, where are you ..." she sobbed, as she stumbled forward from room to room. But no one answered her desperate calls, no one walked through a door to catch her and ask her what was wrong. Suddenly she heard a loud thumping sound and low moans of pain. Her eyes shot open wide, as she looked up at the ceiling. The noise had come from upstairs.

She ran up the stairs, and had to hold on to the banister to keep herself from falling backwards and down the stairs again. A scene she already knew met her eyes. Blood stretched across the hallway.


	3. Chapter 3

**Bloodstained**

Chapter 3

By Greta

* * *

_2097_

* * *

A quiet rustling of leaves and the sudden snapping of a branch made her turn her head to the side quickly. Narrowing her eyes, she moved her upper body slowly away from the city she had been staring at for many minutes now, slowly getting down into a crouching position, concentrating on keeping as quiet as possible.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," she whispered in a sing-song voice, before adding "and whatever you are." But the only thing that answered her was the wind blowing around her body, toying with her silver hair.

Waiting, she kept perfectly still, not another sound leaving her body as she wasn't about to take any risk in turning her back to the trees that could be hiding anything in this darkness too soon. Her eyes scanned the dark shadows surrounding her, her senses heightened from her years of fighting against an enemy that was fast and unpredictable.

Waiting she breathed in deeply, her shoulders tense from concentration, as her mind raced. She had been very stupid. She should have known by now that she wasn't safe anywhere in Tokyo. Once upon a time it had been the bright and innocent light of her essence that had attracted the creatures of the night. But even though that light had gone out long by now, they still sought her out. Revenge, stupidity, sheer lust for blood … The reasons they had for hunting her down were endless.

Allowing her eyes to clamp shut for a mere moment, she scolded herself silently. Her senses sensed nothing out of the ordinary anymore, but she still cursed at herself. This stupid anniversary had made her careless. How could she not have spared a thought for the fact that it might be rather dangerous to get drunk on some forlorn hill without a real weapon in sight? She knew that she could rely on her body and instincts, on her reflexes and strength, but still: how had she become so headless?

But, no further sound met her ears. Well who knew, maybe destiny was making her the small gift of a quiet night at last. Today of all nights, how nice, she thought bitterly.

A rattled sigh left her body, her shoulders sagging slightly, as she slumped back down on the wall, nothing having happened many minutes later. Rubbing her temples, she reached inside a pocket of her black skintight jeans, drawing out a rather tattered looking package of cigarettes. Slowly she brought one to her lips, lit it, and breathed in slowly.

Did destiny have a heart after all? But no, even if she were indeed allowed a quiet night, saying that would be going too far. That cruel creature named destiny had only taught her what true misery and pain were.

Flicking off the ashes of her cigarette with a finger, she reached for her whiskey once more, as a voice suddenly called out to her, raspy and coy. "Hey, Silver, you don't mind me drinking with you, do you?"

Her eyes snapped up to face the person the voice had come from. It was a young man with short black hair and sparkling blue eyes, smirking at her, his black coat billowing around him dramatically in the breeze. A young woman was lying limply in his arms, a wound on her neck seeping with blood. She twitched ever so slightly as the man took a step closer to Usagi.

She snorted slightly, before taking one last drag of her cigarette, the cold smoke going down deep into her lungs. Fucking diva, she thought. Why did they always have to make such stupid entrances? Flicking the cigarette at him, she reached down to her black leather boot, her hands closing around the silver dagger, the small weapon she always had with her.

Seeing three more men appear behind the first, stepping out of the darkness no less mysteriously than he had, she cursed them under her breath, before swiftly moving to the old tree she had been leaning against earlier, breaking two branches off it hurriedly.

"Let her go, Zachariah." She said in a low voice, dagger pointed in his direction.

"Silver, you're so fucking cute. It's four against one. And it looks like you don't really have much of a weapon on you. What are you gonna do, tickle me with those things?" He snorted, taking a few steps closer to her. His eyes sparkled maliciously, fixed on her lithe body. Oh, how he loved fighting her.

"You're right, four against one … Honestly, you bastards. What was that, some sick feeding orgy between the four of you?" she spat at him, gesturing at the woman that was lying limply in his arm.

The vampire only shrugged, letting the woman drop to the ground without a second glance. "Well … Yeah, that about sums it up. Oh, and it was delicious, wasn't it boys?" He laughed loudly, his companions joining him in his jeering. Their laughter echoed eerily around them in the darkness.

Usagi glanced at the woman who had crumpled to the ground. She was twitching feebly, her breath heavy and slow. At least she was still alive. But she really needed to get away from here and straight to a hospital. Well, better end this soon then, she thought to herself.

"Oh, stop the cheap talk and get it on," she yelled angrily, her right eyebrow raised expectantly, her stance showing that she was ready to fight. The words had barely left her mouth before three men stormed at her, their eyes inhuman, fangs showing.

Cries of rage left their mouths as they started punching and kicking simultaneously, ready to break arms and ribs, bruise and beat. Her eyes narrowed, as she noted that this would be their first and their very last fight against her. Time had taught her far too well how to fight. And today she was in no mood to beat around the bush. It was going to be a quick death for them, she could guarantee that much.

Blocking their attacks effortlessly, she kicked the one in front of her in the chest, pushing him away far enough to drive the dagger grasped in her right hand through his heart, ending his sad existence right then and there, before swinging around to face the other two. They were eyeing her worriedly, their companion having become a small heap of dusts in a matter of seconds.

"Don't just stand there," she said, twirling the wooden stake in her left and the silver dagger in her right hand, beckoning them to come closer with her head. She noted with delight that her leisurely stance aggravated the two unearthly creatures in front of her.

Yes, they were not from this earth, and had never meant to be here. Vampires, the greedy, bloodsucking creatures of the night had infiltrated the planet she walked upon many years ago now.

An angry yell left her body before she stormed towards the two vampires, wanting to end this as soon as possible. While the first one was turned into dust in a mere moment, the other one kept blocking her attacks, his fists finally finding her ribcage, taking all breath from her. Gasping, she felt herself being thrown to the ground, noticing from the corner of her eye that a heavy boot was making its way towards her ribs. Smirking she rolled away, getting up on one knee before bringing the silver dagger down into the vampire's foot, making a blood-curdling scream escape his mouth.

"If you play dirty, I will as well," she whispered evilly, her eyes agleam as she released him from his pain, her wooden stake piercing his body before it crumbled to dust.

Picking up her dagger, she wiped the blood that clung to it on her trousers, before turning slowly to the man which had first appeared out of the shadows of the night.

"Give her to me, Zachariah," she said, sighing at his sight. She had known this vampire for a very long time now, longer than any other enemy she had come across in her long life. There had been chances where she could have killed him, and yet … She didn't know why she had spared his life so often. _Oh, don't lie to yourself_, she thought.

"Well, you'll have to fight me then, Silver."

Usagi grimaced.

"What, you think I'd just give her to you? But she was so delicious … I bet there's still enough left for a nice dessert …" he grinned devilishly as he toed the woman at his feet with his heavy boot.

"You're disgusting," Usagi spat at him, her frown deepening.

Zachariah's eyes narrowed. He had had his fun with this silver haired woman facing him. Something about him bothered her deeply, he could sense that much easily. There was no denying that this was probably what had kept him from dying when they had first met many decades ago. He had been feeding on a young woman, and had still been an inexperienced fighter. Hell, he'd only been a vampire for a few weeks. She had pulled him away from his breakfast, but instead of pummeling him had frozen solid on the spot, the strangest look of utter terror, hope, relief and disbelief, all at once, on her face. Because she had let him live, he had been able to increase his skills slowly to match hers. They stumbled upon each other from time to time, always somewhat wary of another but at the same time cherishing the fight. He knew why he cherished it – this beautiful woman fought like no other, her skill and sweat and the sweet blood pumping through her veins always intoxicated him. But after all these years he still didn't know why _she_ too cherished these encounters.

Usagi's eyes narrowed angrily. He was really bugging her today, even though this encounter was no different than the many they had had before. And she didn't even need to pretend that she didn't know why. Zachariah looked far too much like Mamoru, her destined lover whom she had lost so many years ago. Fuck that stupid man – no, creature! Damn him to the deepest of all hells Earth had to offer! How dare he look so much like the man she had loved over a century ago? _How dare he?_

She twirled the dagger in her hand, her stance tense. "Cut the crap out, alright?" she almost screamed at him, her voice higher than usual. "I don't need it! I can't stand it! Not tonight!"

"Silver," he grinned at her. "What a delightful temper. I admire you more every time we meet." Moving closer to her, he reached behind his back, drawing a sword from a sheath strung to his back suddenly.

Her eyes narrowed, she studied the glinting blade for a moment. "Since when do you bastards sword-fight?" she asked in surprise.

"Well, you gotta learn from the best, they say."

Her eyes wide, she saw him storm at her, swinging the sword gracefully and with ease. _Bitch!_ Destiny was nothing but a bitch. Zachariah knew that she was an excellent sword-fighter of course. But, her sword was resting serenely at home today.

Ducking his vicious blows, she tried to land a kick on his lower body, failing miserably as she had to drop to the ground and roll out of danger's way. Using his advantage to his best, it took the vampire mere moments to pin her to the ground forcefully, his eyes smirking at her.

"Silver, I'm disappointed. That has been the shortest fight I have ever had to lead against you. That's no fun." Pinning her two arms to the ground painfully with one large hand, his face moved closer to hers.

He was right. They hadn't even been fighting for five minutes. She felt disappointment and anger rise inside her body. This fucking anniversary! If this were any other day, she would be grinding his dust under her feet at that very moment. But this day, this stupid date, was doing something to her mind and she couldn't stand at all. It was making old memories resurface; it was making her weak and stupid.

It had been one hundred years. One hundred years to the day, since her life had turned into this hell on earth.

Spitting into his face, she forced her legs up to her body with strength rivaling the vampire's easily, kicking him squarely in the chest, away from her body. Getting up from the ground with ease, she punched him in the face, making his lip bleed.

"Don't become happy too soon. Tonight you die," she whispered, her eyes narrowed.

Raising his eyebrows at her, his eyes turned inhuman suddenly as he licked his lips. "So, you really want to bring it to an end?"

"I've spared your life for much too long now, Zachariah. Your face haunts me," she answered truthfully, but for what reasons she would not tell him. She could not tell him, that his face mirrored the one of her destined lover, the one she had seen bleed to death one hundred years ago. She could not tell him that, the day she had met him over forty years ago, she had hoped - knowing it was stupid - that Mamoru might have been reborn. She couldn't tell him, that that was the reason that had sent her running from him.

But she had soon figured out that it was only an eerie resemblance, nothing more, nothing less. He wasn't Mamoru, he, just like all the others, had not been reborn. She had always known it, and yet she had let him live. Let this anniversary be good for one thing at least, she thought. She would end it today. One hundred years were enough to weep after something she couldn't reverse.

Storming at him she punched and kicked, dived and stabbed with her silver dagger, satisfied at seeing the blood seep through his black coat. His yellow eyes traced the slash she had caused on his arm intently. They had been fighting for decades now, both strong, both unpredictable. But their fights had rarely gone further than broken bones.

Her eyes glinting dangerously, she kicked him once more in the chest, her fist hitting his chin at the same time, making him stumble backwards. Moving to the side quickly, she grabbed the sword from his loosened grip. Bellowing angrily, he punched her, before hurriedly grabbing a dagger from inside his coat. It took him only seconds to bring it down on her smooth cheek.

Watching the blood seep from the wound, he followed the thick liquid run down her cheek with his eyes, the red trail glinting eerily in the moonlight. They stood there silently for seconds that felt like minutes, their eyes fixed on each other.

Raising the sword she had taken from him high in the air, she swung it forcefully at him, the blade aimed at his neck. But Zachariah ducked in time, Usagi only managing to swipe at his arm. The vampire cried out in pain as she sliced into his flesh deeply with his own sword. He stumbled backwards, clutching heavily at his shoulder. She could see that blood was already seeping through the shirt he wore beneath his coat. Usagi walked over to him, raising the sword high, ready to deliver the final blow.

Zachariah was crouching on the ground, coughing and wheezing. Fear was slowly trickling through him – she had never seemed so serious about ending his life before. Looking around frantically he looked for a way out. Trees closed in around them, everything behind them covered in velvety shadows no human eye could see through. They would provide a perfect getaway if only he could reach them. He needed to distract her attention somehow …

Usagi had reached the spot where he was cowering in two long strides, and knelt down beside him, bringing up the sword against his neck.

Zachariah flinched. "Why today of all days, Silver?" he coughed.

Usagi opened her mouth, but knew no answer. Zachariah grabbed this chance and reached for her neck with one hand, pulling her face close to his. He pressed his lips against hers hard, as he yanked at the necklace that was always dangling from her neck. It was a long and delicate silver chain from which a large crystal hung, which sparkled dully in the moonlight. His fist closed around the crystal, as he pushed her away from him heavily. Usagi fell back on her butt, the sword clattering noisily to the ground. The vampire rolled to his side, pushing himself up using the fist that was clenching the crystal. He scrambled to his feet and ran off to the trees faster than Usagi could react.

"Hey … Hey, you bastard, get back!" she yelled after him as she too scrambled to her feet. But she knew it was too late. She only had time to see him disappear amongst the trees and knew there was no use in trying to follow him. Her eyes were nowhere as good as his, she had no chance in finding him now. She sighed as she rubbed her neck where the necklace had cut into her skin, as he had yanked it from her neck. The thing had been useless for a hundred years by now, she had only been keeping it as a keepsake. But it felt strange without the weight of the Silver Crystal around her neck.


	4. Chapter 4

**Bloodstained**

Chapter 4

By Greta

* * *

_1997_

* * *

Usagi stared blankly out of the window. The sun was shining brightly, cherry blossoms were drifting across the sky and birds were singing happily. But she could see no beauty in it anymore. She was starting to look dishevelled. Her hair was a mess and stuck out at odd angles. She had no clue when she had last changed her clothes – she was pretty sure they were starting to smell stale. But she didn't care; there was no reason to care.

Her gaze didn't waver when she heard the ringing of the doorbell, the door opening and low voices talking hurriedly and somewhat nervously. She could hear a female voice rising slightly and slowly becoming angry before a door slammed. Only a soft purring finally made Usagi stir and look down. She grimaced at the black feline rubbing against her feet. She had been feeling her mistress' distress and was trying her best to play the part of a supportive pet. But Usagi pushed her away angrily with her foot. Who was this cat who looked like Luna but was nothing like her anymore? No words left her mouth, no golden crescent moon lingered on her forehead. It was as if her old spirit had been replaced with that of any normal cat. Usagi couldn't bear to look at her. She grabbed the cat roughly by the collar and carried it out of her room before closing the door in its face.

Her limbs felt sore, she couldn't remember when she had last shifted her position. She could hear the feeble scratching of the cat at her door, wanting to return to the room. But Usagi ignored the sound.

Now that she had finally gotten up she couldn't seem to stop moving, sitting down only made her feel restless. She paced the room in endless circles, her arms wrapped around herself, her mind forcefully blank. She couldn't think of anything else but _them_ – they were her friends, her family, her love, simply her life. They had been everything. Through all the good times and all the bad they had always been together, they had survived so much, so many great evils. And now they were gone, every single one of them simply gone. Just like that. It took all the strength she could muster not to think of it and yet there was nothing else to think about.

She was going mad, simply mad. Her thoughts were constantly rotating in an endless loop and kept replaying to her what had been lost, what was now impossible. Usagi clawed at her sides as she paced the room faster and faster, her breath short and hectic.

Dead, dead, everybody was just dead, and with them the life she had known, the future she had been awaiting, the only friends she could ever imagine having, destiny was useless, useless, utterly useless, she was all alone and would be until she died, for how could anyone ever fill their places?

Usagi felt like screaming at her own mind. Just stop, she pleaded silently. I can't take it anymore, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop.

Usagi halted in her frantic pacing, glancing at the full body mirror in front of her. A red eyed, puffy faced, messy, dishevelled person that looked only vaguely familiar, was staring back at her. The sun that was still shining into her room as if nothing had happened all those weeks ago, caught on a silver object. Usagi grabbed the scissors without another thought and went on to cut one of the odangos atop of her head off, as if she had been planning it all along. The many golden strands of hair fell to the ground in a small pile, the short, shaggy hair remaining on her head framing one side of her face messily. She breathed in deeply, before cutting off the other odango. She watched the hair fall to the ground, before brushing her remaining hair shakily with her fingers, pulling harshly at knots.

Her head felt strangely lighter.

* * *

The moon had replaced the sun. It too was still shining as if nothing had happened, as if all was well. The moon of all things! Aren't you supposed to be _my star_? How can you dare to shine, innocent and brightly, as if nothing has happened? Usagi couldn't help but wonder, as she stuffed the small duffel bag angrily. If everyone else has to die, why can't you?

She breathed unsteadily, her unevenly cut hair falling into her face, tickling her nose. She just couldn't stay here anymore. The walls of her old room seemed to be closing in on her, every nook and every corner of it triggering memories of times when life had still been normal. She swung the bag over her shoulder, before bending over her desk once more. A note was lying there. It simply read: _I couldn't take it anymore. I'm sorry. Please don't come looking. I love you. _Her golden masses of hair were peeking out of the trash can from below the desk.

She opened the door quietly, softly stepping out unto the landing. A short meow met her there. Usagi glanced down to see two feline eyes peering up at her. She had to swallow hard before being able to bend down and pet the cat's head.

"Mama will take good care of you," she said curtly. Her hand trembled slightly and her voice shook as she added, "Luna, if you're still in there, I love you. I'm so sorry that ... that I couldn't protect them or save them or ... " Her voice cracked and broke off as she spoke the last words. The cat meowed once more before dashing off to Usagi's room.

Usagi got up again and tried to soothe herself by breathing in deeply. She crept past her parent's and her brother's bedroom. She had lost her friends and her lover within a few hours and with them a part of her life, if not all of her life. They too had been her family. And now she was willingly giving up all the family and love she had left in the world. Was this really the right thing to do? Usagi shuddered. She couldn't tell. But her mind couldn't make out the difference between right and wrong anymore. It seemed as if everything she knew had died with her friends. She only knew that she couldn't stand it here anymore, she simply had to get away.


	5. Chapter 5

**ATTENTION**: To everybody who read the "original" four chapters: huge chunks of the former chapters have been rewritten. You'll still recognize lots of the stuff, but I added some completely new chapters, so some of the old stuff will now be reappearing in later chapters. Therefore it's probably just best to reread the whole thing – sorry for any inconveniences! But I think the story really needed it (to lose some of the former drama the title has also been shortened down to "Bloodstained", if anybody's been wondering ;-) ).

* * *

**Bloodstained**

Chapter 5

By Greta

* * *

_2097_

* * *

A small groan made Usagi look away from the forest she had been squinting at. The girl the vampires had been feeding on was still lying on the ground a few meters away from her in a crumpled heap. Usagi quickly hurried over to her, getting down on her knees beside her. She tried to make soothing hush sounds as she laid the woman flat on her back, taking off the light jacket she was wearing. Folding it, she pushed it beneath the young woman's head gently. She didn't even stir as her head was lifted. Usagi sighed. This young woman before her was a mere girl, she looked no older than sixteen or seventeen. Her short blonde hair spread around her like a soft halo, shimmering in the moonlight. Her neck was slashed open on both sides – the vampires had truly made a feast out of it, dining on her together. Usagi grimaced at the gruesome sight. She felt for the girl's pulse and found it, but it was very weak. She really didn't know how she was supposed to best transport this girl to her car that stood quite a distance away at the bottom of the hill.

_Think_, she told herself, _think. Maybe if I try to carry her on my back? I doubt she'll be able to walk by herself and lean on me._

A hand touching her shoulder softly interrupted her train of thought abruptly. Without turning around, Usagi grabbed the arm touching her, roughly flipping the person over her shoulder, which landed on the hard ground with a dull thump. She straddled the person lying at her feet, pulling the sword she had dropped earlier towards her in one swift move and bringing it to the intruder's neck.

Her eyes widened in horror as blue eyes stared back at her in surprise.

" … Odango … ?"

Usagi stared at the young man lying beneath her, mouth agape, hardly registering what he had said. He looked oh so familiar – but it had been such a long time since she had last seen him that she could practically feel the gears of her mind shifting around, searching for the pieces of the puzzle in her memory to correctly complete the picture. There was the messy, black hair, tied back together in a long ponytail, dark blue eyes, silver moon shaped earrings glinting in the light of the real moon. The man lying beneath her looked a bit older, a bit wiser, than the picture her memory presented her with, but there was no doubt about who he was.

"Oh, fuck you, not another one of you doppelgangers tonight! What is wrong with all of you, honestly?" she yelled angrily, tightening the grip on the sword to hide her slightly shaking hands. "Why do you all know that tonight is the worst of all nights to do this sort of crap?" Her hands were really shaking now, the sword pressing against his neck worse and worse.

"What … What the hell are you doing? Stop it, Usagi!"

Usagi. U-sa-gi. The three syllables felt like a punch to the stomach and left her gasping for air, echoing loudly in her mind. She hadn't heard those three syllables that made up one simple word, her name, in what felt like a lifetime. All the people who had known her name, her _real_ name, had died long ago. For daily business she had long adopted a new name, pretending to be her own grandchild. She had been able to use Usagi Tsukino until sometime after her 50th birthday, but after that she felt that it was just too ridiculous. Hell, she didn't look a day older than eighteen after all.

She talked to herself a lot, there weren't many people to keep her company after all. But even then, she never addressed herself with her real name, so there was not even the chance of anyone having overheard her do so. Therefore no person alive should be able to address her correctly. Yet this man lying beneath her was speaking her name as if it was the most normal thing in the world. She could feel her shaking fingers release their grip on the sword she had been holding, as she slipped off him, landing on her butt beside him. Her eyes widened in horror as the realization of who he really was dawned upon her.

"Seiya?" she whispered.

He was looking at her quizzically. But he didn't flinch or look surprised as she uttered his name. Usagi swallowed hard but couldn't bring herself to say anything more as she suddenly grabbed the black dress shirt he was wearing, ripping open the topmost buttons as she felt for his chest.

"What the hell are you doing, Usagi? What's going on?" a bewildered Seiya asked, eyeing the small, not so blonde girl anymore that was feeling his chest.

But Usagi had found what she was looking for: a heartbeat. Thud, thud, thud. It echoed her own, it was fast and nervous.

"You're alive …" she whispered, her voice unbelieving. "You're real … But it's impossible … Seiya, are you real?"

Seiya raised an eyebrow at her questioningly. He was confused, to say the least. It had been years and years since he had left the blue planet with his Princess, Yaten and Taiki, and he really wasn't sure what he was supposed to expect from this visit. But he was sure that he hadn't been expecting _this_.

They say time heals all wounds, and he had to agree somewhat. Time and occupying himself with other things had lessened the pain, the pain of leaving behind a life he had learned to like very much, a life full of people he cared about, a life that contained _her_. Even if she wasn't his, even if she could never be his, she was there and he could feast his mind and soul on her. Her beauty, her innocence, her laughter, her clumsiness, her boldness, her naïve believe in everything that was good. It had made him feel safe and at home here on this blue planet. Leaving it all behind had been painful, hearing her saying that they'd always be friends had been awful. Friends … How cruelly that word had cut into him, even though he couldn't be upset or even mad at her when she said it. She had said it because she was who she was, and that was why he had loved her.

Time had healed that pain, but he had never forgotten. Rebuilding Kinmoku, recreating what had been destroyed and sustaining it all had needed years of hard work, and love had come and gone again in his life. But through it all, he had never forgotten the sweetness of her voice, the light that shone from her eyes, her bubbly laugh, and most of all that bittersweet taste of his love for her. He had never contacted her in all those years, even though he had often thought of doing so. But what was he to say to her? He knew how her destiny was going to unravel; Kakyuu had known all about it, the story of the destined lovers, the story of Serenity and Endymion, was no secret. Whenever the urge became too strong, he immersed himself in more work, and there was always enough to do on Kinmoku.

But as of late the urge had become too strong to suppress. It had been so long – nearly a decade had passed since he had left. So he had come here on an insane impulse. He hadn't told anybody where he was going except for Taiki and Yaten, who had both only raised their eyebrows at him, saying nothing. They too had found it hard leaving Earth, they too had learned to like it here, even if their feelings hadn't been as strong as Seiya's. They understood his urge to go back and visit the place they had called home for that short time which was now so long ago. Seiya could even swear that, for a moment at least, he had seen that crazy impulse, that desire to come back and see how everyone was doing, how Serenity and Endymion were ruling over Crystal-Tokyo, infect them as well. But they had resisted, whereas he had taken the step.

And now he lay there on the cold hard ground, his neck hurting from where the woman he had sought after had pressed a sword against it, uttering words he couldn't make any sense of.

"What are you talking about? Of course I'm real, Odango … Atama …" the last words died softly on his lips, as he pushed himself up from the ground and finally took a good look at her. She was no Odango Atama anymore. Her golden tresses had turned the silvery-white colour of the moon and she had abandoned her old hairstyle to let her slightly shorter hair sway around her body freely. She was crouching at his side, her legs clad in dark, high-heeled boots, her tight clothing showing off her figure even in the dark. Her mouth was agape, red blood seeping from a wound on her cheek. Her eyes had become lighter as well, the bright blue, which had always bubbled with mirth, now full of the world's sadness and anger. Looking at her like this, he too felt like questioning who she was. Was this strange woman really the innocent girl that he remembered, whose picture he had treasured all those years?

Usagi swallowed. He had said her name again – her other real name, the nickname only her loved ones had called her when wanting to tease her, a name she had almost forgotten as it had been even longer since she had last heard it. This only left room for one possibility: he truly was real. Seiya Kou, former popstar and classmate of hers, with whom she had laughed and fought side by side for months, was very much alive.

Even though her thoughts were racing around in circles, a small part of her seemed to remain cool, telling her that it simply, logically, wasn't possible. Her eyebrows knitted in thought as she raised a hand, slowly counting on her fingers. Her brow furrowed, her other arm slowly sought out the handle of the sword again as she slowly inched away from him.

"But it's impossible ... You simply can't be alive. Why are you alive?" she whispered, as she slowly pushed herself up from the ground, eyeing him warily, doubts rising inside of her.

„Usagi, please just ... just cut it out. It's me, and yes I'm alive. How else could I be facing you now?" Seiya answered her, pushing himself up as well. He rubbed at his neck again, before buttoning up his shirt and brushing it off slightly. She was starting to make him nervous.

"I'm asking you, why you're alive. Even if you are who I think you are, who you say you are, there is just no logical way for you to be alive. You'd at least have had to die a natural death after all this time."

"What, with 27? Thanks for thinking I'd make it that far," he said, shaking his head at her, not sure if he was supposed to laugh or not.

Usagi's mouth opened, but whatever she had wanted to say was interrupted by the sound of a broken twig and rustling leaves. Usagi straightened herself, clutching the weapon she had obtained from Zachariah, swinging the sword in front of her. She gestured at Seiya to get behind her, bringing her forefinger to her lips, signaling him to be quiet.

The rustling grew louder, the person coming closer obviously not caring about making a racket, as more twigs cracked and leaves crunched beneath heavy footwear. Suddenly, a blonde man burst into the clearing in which Usagi and Seiya were standing.

It was another vampire, a vampire Usagi happened to know. "Nuncio," she sighed. Golden haired, blue-eyed Nuncio. The moon was illuminating his face which was as white and smooth as marble, making him seem like a Greek statue. His silken hair was tied back in a short braid, his dark clothing making his body look like a mere shadow. His body froze as he realized that things weren't exactly the way he had anticipated them.

"You're too late, Nuncio", she said, taking a few steps into his direction. "They've already left. Well, actually, I killed them. But you can still take their remains along with you if you want to," she said, kicking against the ground, making a small cloud of dust rise. She grinned meanly at him.

Nuncio's jaw was tense. This wasn't what he had come here for. He knew that on his own he hardly had a chance against the vampire fighter they all liked to call Silver because of the colour of her hair. But he hated seeing her like this, all smug, obviously trying to infuriate him. His eyes narrowed as he noticed with what she was pointing into his direction. It was a sword, a sword he knew too well.

"What did you do to Zachariah?" he asked, not being able to keep the worry out of his voice.

"Well ... You're lucky, he got away. And ran away like a scared little girl instead of fighting it out with me," she answered, choosing her words so as to infuriate him more.

Nuncio's eyes narrowed. Damn that bitch for making fun of his beloved. Zachariah was his everything. His sire, his master, his partner. How dare she talk like this! Anger rose inside of him, making his inhuman nature surface. Fangs bared, he growled at her, his eyes slits.

Usagi heard Seiya gasp behind her. The sound made her think of the first time she had laid her eyes on one of these unearthly creatures of the night, which now roamed Tokyo. It had been almost fifty years ago that she had discovered that a new enemy had reached the Earth. At that point it had been so long since she had last been in a real fight, that she had almost forgotten how to react, completely unsure of what to do. Instinctively she had reached for the Silver Crystal still dangling from her neck, but it had done no good of course. She had then groped around for the nearest weapon she could find, a glass bottle, and had advanced on the blood-sucking fiend that was draining the life from a girl in a dark alley behind a club Usagi had been going to. Her hand had shook, as she had smashed the bottle over the vampire's head, who had not been overly impressed with her move. He had dropped the girl and instead advanced on her, forcing the shattered bottle out of her hand and bringing it down on her shoulder. Usagi flinched at the memory. She still had a scar from that bottle, from her first fight against a vampire, which had ended with herself pulling glass from a garish wound at home and a victim that had most certainly died. After the vampire had attacked her, Usagi had panicked and taken off into the night, running away as fast as she could. Usagi grimaced. But things would end differently tonight. She was going to safe that girl and that strange link to the past that had resurfaced, tonight of all nights.

"So, what do you want, Nuncio? Why are you still here? I was sure you would have made a run for it as soon as you'd found out that all your pals aren't here anymore."

Nuncio's eyes flicked from her face to the forest surrounding them, giving away that he had obviously been thinking just that. But he too, much like Zachariah before him, didn't know how to best make his getaway from her.

Usagi let out a hollow laugh as she saw his flickering gaze. "Ah, caught ya, didn't I?" Suddenly she felt a warm presence moving closer to her, making her shudder slightly. Seiya had stepped closer to her, his arm pressing up softly against her back. The warmth of this small touch made her heart beat faster. How long had it been since someone she actually liked had touched her, hugged her, been close to her in any way at all? Usagi swallowed hard, before twisting around to push him back. She saw how his fist was closed upon something in the pocket of his pants, and she could easily guess what it was. So, he could still transform into a Sailor Senshi? Another thing that seemed to be from another lifetime. The Silver Crystal had become useless the day everybody had died, its magic seemingly disappearing overnight. But even if he could still transform, she knew that it was no good against the vampires. They were fast and unforgiving, their mind set on one goal: blood. The time it took to transform and attack was probably enough to drain a human being. Usagi shook her head at Seiya, uttering „Don't! Let me handle it!" before spinning around to face the vampire again. Her voice left no room for arguments.

"Stop looking for a way out, Nuncio. Do you know how we're going to do this? Quick, and if you're lucky, even largely pain free. Since Zachariah got away you'll just have to take his place for my nightly toll of one vampire's death." Usagi said this, while swinging the sword once more, striding towards him.

Nuncio licked his lips nervously. If he broke into a run now, she'd be on his heel in a minute, he knew that much. Maybe he could jump over the little stone wall? But he really didn't like the look of that abyss. Maybe he could dive for the woman lying on the ground, take her as a hostage?

His train of thought was cut short by Usagi punching him squarely in his beautiful face. He howled as he staggered backwards. "Bitch," he growled, as he swung his own fist at her. Usagi ducked his blow, instead catching him in the ribs, which left him gasping for air. Throwing punches and kicks at him, she parried his attacks easily.

"Oh, Nuncio, this is ridiculous, really, even for a bad fighter like you," she said suddenly, stopping her attacks once he'd finally fallen to the ground, breathing heavily. "You know what?" crouching down beside his fallen body and propping up the sword on the ground to rest on it, she leaned down to him to whisper in his ear. "I'll make this fast. Better for you, and better for me." Her mouth turned into a malicious grin once more, before she grabbed him around the neck, twisting one arm painfully onto his back, driving one knee up to meet his ribcage with force, hearing the soft crack with slight satisfaction. Gasping, Nuncio stared up at her in pain.

Swiftly she raised the sword, and let it cut through his neck. She released the arm of the lifeless body she was holding, letting it crumple to the floor, the vampire's head rolling away to the edge of the forest. She heard steps behind her, making her turn around. Seiya was eyeing her warily.

"What on Earth is – I, I mean was that thing?" he asked in disbelief.

"That was a vampire."

"A vampire? As in, creature of the dark that sucks blood to survive?"

"That about sums it up. I didn't know you had the same myths on Kinmoku as on Earth."

"Eh, we don't, I remembered it from a movie I saw when we were still here ..." Seiya's voice drifted off, his eyes still fixed warily on the sight in front of him. Like she had said, it was a myth, nothing else. And yet that myth's beheaded body, and much worse, its lone head, were lying mere meters away from him. But that wasn't the only thing making him wonder. It was the fight he had witnessed just as much. What had happened to the Senshi of Love and Justice he had fought beside? Where was the ever-powerful light of her heart and soul, which had defeated even the darkest of enemies?

She had defended herself and fought with such ease that he had to wonder just how she had acquired those skills. She certainly hadn't possessed them when they had last fought together. She had been clumsy and helpless then, but adoringly so. Now something almost dark emanated from her. There was something haunting hovering about her aura, mingled with grief and anger and sin. She had caused death and destruction within mere minutes, and he couldn't help but feel as if she had had fun in doing so. The Sailor Soldier he remembered, innocent and naïve, was no longer.

Usagi stepped closer to the girl that was lying on the ground, which he hadn't really noticed was there up until now. He felt the strangest urge to walk over to Usagi and knock the sword out of her hand and protect the girl lying helplessly on the ground. As Seiya sped up towards her, Usagi knelt down and gently felt for the girl's pulse, brushing against her cheek gently.

"Help me carry her to the car, Seiya, won't you? She needs to get to the hospital."


	6. Chapter 6

**Bloodstained**

Chapter 6

By Greta

* * *

_1997_

* * *

Ikuko groaned as she rolled unto her side to look at the alarm clock that stood on her bedside table. The digital numbers read 5:43 am. Rubbing at her eyes she tried to go back to sleep. But there, the noise that had first awoken her had started again. It was the sound of something persistently scratching against her bedroom door. It was far too early for this, she told herself. She forced her eyes to close and tried to concentrate on her husband's breathing, who was completely undisturbed in his sleep by the constant scratching on their bedroom door during the past few minutes. Ikuko sighed. If only she could sleep like that. As the scratching continued, she knew there was no use in trying to settle back down to sleep.

Grumbling slightly, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, groping around in the dark for her slippers. Oh, she would definitely have to scold Usagi for this, Luna was probably just thirsty and Usagi, much like her father, was sleeping through the racket Luna was making.

As she pushed herself up from the bed, Ikuko gulped. Oh, just what she'd give to be able to do that. It was so early that her mind had not quite caught up with her yet, making her believe that things were still the way they had been a few months ago. Ikuko now knew for sure, that Usagi had forgotten Luna's water and hadn't let her into her room, she knew that Usagi had not spared a thought for it, just as she knew that it was of no importance to her whatsoeber that she hadn't.

Ikuko sighed. Her poor child.

Grabbing her dressing gown she shuffled out of the bedroom, and opened the door to find Luna sitting in front of it. "Well, good morning, Missy," she whispered, before scooping the cat up into her arms. Luna meowed, snuggling up against Ikuko.

Quietly, Ikuko made her way down the hallway to Usagi's bedroom. Pressing her ear against the door, she tried to hear her sleeping daughter's soft breathing. Hearing nothing, she frowned, before knocking softly. But no answer came. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, unsure if she should just go inside or not.

Dealing with Usagi had become very difficult ever since it all happened. On that fateful day two months ago, when Usagi had set out to surprise Mamoru, she had never come home as she had said she would. Ikuko hadn't worried at first, believing her and Mamoru to be spending some time together. But as the evening came and Usagi didn't, she had started to grow nervous. It wasn't until long past midnight that the doorbell rang, a nervous Ikuko sprinting to the door, throwing it open, ready to scold. But two police men, supporting a drawn-out looking Usagi between them, made her voice stop somewhere in her throat. Usagi was huddled in a blanket, her hair undone, dark red stains on her cheeks and clinging in clumps to her hair, her eyes red and swollen. But worse than all of this was the look in her daughter's eyes. They weren't meeting hers, they weren't looking anywhere at all. But she looked to be in so much pain, pain that was undescribable to words, a fire, a certain light that had always been shining in her eyes now dead. Usagi had stumbled forwards into her arms, shivering, as the police men explained curtly that they had found her at the sight of a murder scene and had had to keep her in for questioning, saying that they would return the following day to explain. They left, leaving a destroyed Usagi at her doorstep.

Usagi wouldn't utter a single word about what had happened. Ikuko had had to rely on what the police told her the following day and the many bits of news that had floated around in the newspapers and on the television, which wasn't a very hard task. The incident had been covered widely for weeks, the mass murder of nine people, one still a child, catching the public's interest easily.

Ever since then, Usagi had not been the same. But, Ikuko asked herself, how could she? All her friends and her boyfriend had died in one day, seemingly killed by the same hand. It really was uncanny, that all nine of them died in the same brutal, bloody manner on the same day, within hours of each other. Ikuko couldn't help but shiver, feeling as if she was missing some piece of the puzzle, the way she always felt when she started thinking about what had happened. And it was hard not to think about it. Usagi had barely left the house since then. School had become impossible, three of her best friends suddenly missing from her classroom. At first Ikuko had tried to keep things as normal as possible, she had read once that it was best for someone traumatized that their environment continued to behave normally. But that person had obviously not thought of Usagi's case, where nine people she had loved had died practically at once. There had been no use in trying to get Usagi to go to school, or to do her chores, or even to just send her for small errands.

She had once tried to ask Usagi to go for some groceries. When she hadn't returned many hours later she had gone to search for her with Shingo. He had found his sister a few blocks away, staring at the entrance of a Shinto temple. Her gaze was unwavering and frankly rather scary, and she looked as if she hadn't moved ever since she had stumbled upon the temple on her way to the grocer's, which had been hours ago.

Now her daughter mainly sat in her room all day, doing – well, she didn't know what Usagi was really doing. She would press her ear quietly against the door in regular intervals, like she had done just now, but most of the time could hear nothing but Usagi's soft breathing. No TV, no video games, no pages of a book being turned. Just the quiet and her daughter.

Ikuko decided to look inside Usagi's room and check on her daughter after all.

Taking a deep breath she opened the door as quietly as possible, peeking inside the dark room. It took her a moment to realize that Usagi's bed was indeed messy, but there was no Usagi lying inside of it. Ikuko turned on the light, throwing the door open fully, her eyes wide. _Oh God, no, she wouldn't really ..._

Stepping forward, she wrapped her dressing gown tightly around herself, turning on the spot, looking into all directions. She threw open the closet doors and pulled back the covers of the bed, but still, no Usagi. Pulling back the chair that stood in front of the desk, Ikuko already knew that it was no use – Usagi wasn't likely to jump out from below the desk and yell "Surprise!" With the chair pulled back, she now saw that a piece of paper lay on the desk. It was from some old stationary that Usagi had used to love, covered in little bunnies and pink hearts. _I couldn't take it anymore. I'm sorry. Please don't come looking. I love you._

Ikuko gulped. No, no, no. This couldn't be it. Surely Usagi couldn't really mean this. Running away, what a silly notion, even amidst all this mess, she told herself. Ikuko snatched the short letter up and started rummaging around on the desk, pulling open drawers, upending boxes that held pens and pencils, flipping open books, before letting them drop to the ground. There had to be something else somewhere, that couldn't be it. There just had to be. Amongst the contents of a drawer she had just emptied, a notebook fell out. Even though it still looked rather new, it seemed to have been used extensively, notes and clippings sticking out of it at all angles. Ikuko gasped when it fell open in front of her._ "Death of nine terrifies Tokyo!", "Is the murderer still out there?", "Chief police officer interviews: Death of nine to go down as one of Japan's most horrific crimes of the 20th century", ..._

It seemed as if she had found out what one pass time of her daughter was after all. The notebook held what looked like every newspaper article that had ever been written on what had happened to Usagi's friends, some horrible because of their frivolous content, some because they had been adorned with pictures of the crime sight. Ikuko had to swallow hard.

"What's going on, honey?" Usagi's father was standing in the doorway, yawning. Ikuko hadn't realized how much noise she'd been making when going through Usagi's desk.

"She's gone. She's run away."


	7. Chapter 7

**Bloodstained**

Chapter 7

By Greta

* * *

_2097_

* * *

Seiya was leaning against a car, his head looking towards the rising sun, his eyes closed. The warmth of the steadily rising sun was tickling his face and he couldn't help but breathe in deeply and contently. Yes, things were strange and obviously very bad. But ... He was here, and most of all _she_ was here. His arms were crossed in front of his chest, the warmth only slowly catching up with his limbs. It had to be spring here in Tokyo, and the air wasn't too cold, but he was used to warmer climate from Kinmoku. He couldn't help but wonder how his disappearance was being handled back home. Taiki and Yaten surely hadn't said anything of their own accord, but he knew them too well. If asked, they would probably say the truth. So it was really more a question of how long until somebody wondered about his whereabouts, and Seiya really couldn't guess how long that would be.

Seiya sighed. Things had been strange back home for the past year or so. He couldn't help feeling that he had been left behind whereas everyone else was moving on. The three of them were still companions, they were still a team, just as they always had been – before coming to Earth, during their time here of course, and afterwards. There had always been a goal to chase after, some mission to accomplish. Fighting Galaxia, finding their Princess, rebuilding their home. And horrible how these tasks had all been, each one painful in their own manner, he had always relished having a goal to focus on. Seiya wasn't good at standing still and doing nothing. They had reached all their goals in the end, and each one of them was, in truth, enough for a lifetime as it was. But Seiya felt restless. He had no idea how to deal with the fact that his life now belonged to himself again.

But his companions obviously did. They had started pursuing their own interests again, building their own lives. There were careers to be pursued, homes to be built, lovers attained and even a strange whisper of having children. It had made him crazy, to say the least. Not because he didn't think that they deserved a quiet life at last, no, that wasn't it. It was making him crazy that he couldn't keep up with them. He was useless at every single one of these tasks. The one career that had been perfect for him, was already over, ending when he had left Earth. Lovers came and went, at times they even brought love along with them, but none of it had lasted. And without that, a home or - heaven forbid - children, was something he could spare no thought for.

He felt as if he had been left behind while everybody else was getting on with their lives. That and the bubbling wish to just see _her_ again, the person that was the link to his old life here, the person that had caught his heart like no other, had been enough to drive him away from the planet he had been rebuilding for the past years.

A clicking of heels made him stand up straight, opening his eyes again, as he turned into the direction of the noise. Usagi was making her way down the stairs that led up to the hospital they had driven to. He had wanted to come along with her and help her with the girl they had saved, but she had denied him, saying that she'd better handle it alone, knowing certain doctors in the hospital that asked no questions whenever she brought in a victim that had been drained of blood and bitten in the neck. She stopped beside the silver convertible Seiya was leaning on, still eyeing him warily.

"They said she's going to be alright."

"Well, that's good."

"Yeah ..." Usagi was staring at him intently, making Seiya slightly uncomfortable.

"So, eh, ... What do we do now?" he tried to break her stare, but failed miserably. It wasn't until she unlocked the car's door and sat down on the driver's seat that she finally looked away from him.

Usagi couldn't even say that her mind was racing anymore. There seemed to be an empty void where all her confused thoughts of the impossibility of his appearance and of the stupidness of this anniversary had been going round and round in circles only minutes before. But as she stood there, staring at this man who had sought her out after all this time, her mind was silent, letting her savour the sight.

When everybody had died all those years ago, she had assumed that _everybody_ had died. Why should there have been any exceptions made, when even Luna had reverted to being a normal cat? She had never spared a thought for the possibility, that due to some strange and twisted ploy of destiny, other planets might not have been affected by whatever had happened to her here on Earth. She had dreamed and prayed for years, that everybody would be reborn – it had happened once before, so why not again? She had always been on the lookout for signs, but her wish was never fulfilled. And now he stood there across from her, probably not reborn, but very much alive.

Sitting in the car, she leant her forehead against the driver's wheel, her eyes closed. She didn't look up as she felt him getting into the car beside her. Leaning forwards slightly like this, her eyes closed, she could decipher at least one reason for the quiet her mind was providing her with. Her head pounded softly from the alcohol she had been drinking earlier. She had wanted to get drunk, hadn't she? She hadn't made it all the way, but she had certainly gotten a good head start before everybody else had started interrupting her. The danger had made her focus, the adrenalin that had pumped through her veins helping her to pull herself together. But now, with the tension gone, she could feel the alcohol slowly getting the better of her. She really needed to lie down. Swallowing, she pushed herself up into an upright position, turning her head towards Seiya, who had been watching her intently.

"How about we talk? I mean, there's obviously a lot to say," he offered, before she had a chance to say anything.

OK, it wasn't exactly what she had in mind, as she thought longingly of a hot shower, an aspirin, some water and a bed. But he was right of course. There was definitely a lot to be talked about.

"Do you mind very much if I lie down first? I'm not feeling so good," she mumbled, as she closed her eyes again. "Do you know how to drive?" she added as an afterthought.

"Eh ... I never really got around to making my driver's licence when we were on Earth."

"You need gas to drive a car, not a driver's licence."

"Well, then I guess it's a no."

Usagi sighed. "Oh well ... We'll just have to go somewhere close then," she said, a finger at her chin as she seemed to go over possibilities in her head. Usagi had lived in many places by now in her long life, and over time she had started acquiring all those places she had called home at some point in her life. Especially now that money hadn't really become a problem. She looked at their surroundings, thinking. Hadn't she lived in this district, decades and decades ago? And then it hit her. Of course ...

"I hope you don't mind it being a bit messy, I haven't been at that place in ages. But it has a bed and probably some coffee somewhere. We'll go somewhere nicer later, I promise."

"What, do you have so many places to choose from?" he asked her playfully, his gaze rather dumbfounded when she just shrugged a yes. "Of course, sure, let's go wherever's best for you," he added quickly.

Usagi nodded, starting up the engine. But Seiya grabbed her hand before it made its way successfully to the gear shift. Usagi stiffened at his touch, her eyes slightly widened. Seiya rubbed his thumb gently over the back of her hand, smiling softly at her. "Hey, Odango ... It's good to see you again."

* * *

Clank, clank, clank.

Seiya was staring down into the cup of black coffee he was holding with one hand silently. He tried to keep his eyes fixed on the black liquid in the chipped cup and the spoon that was stirring inside it that was making a clanking sound as it hit against the cup's walls. Looking around to survey his surroundings only depressed him. He really did hope that Usagi had said the truth and that they would go somewhere nicer later on. They had landed in a very small apartment, only a few blocks away from the hospital. He was at least glad that they hadn't needed to go any further, as Usagi seemed to sway off to one side from the road more than once. The building hand't looked very promising to start with, but the apartment itself made the question of what had happened while he had been away scream out loudly again in his mind. The apartment consisted of one room that seemed to be living room, bedroom and kitchen all in one, with a door leading off to a small bathroom. The walls were a greying white, the wallpaper looking blotchy in places, the furniture tattered, with a thick layer of dust covering everything. He didn't mind it for himself – but it depressed him to think that she had lived in such a place.

But Usagi hadn't spared the sad looking room another glance, as she reached down to pull out the dagger she had hidden in her boot again, before lying it down on the kitchen counter and kicking off her boots, instantly making her a few centimetres smaller again. She put on some water for Seiya's coffee, showing him where cups and coffee powder were, before heading off to the bathroom, swaying ever so slightly. Pulling off her shirt while walking, she left Seiya staring transfixed at her bare back, before the bathroom door had slammed shut.

Seiya had swallowed hard as he had turned away, his gaze now locked on the kettle of water on the stove. The water was slowly starting to boil, the sound of the bubbling water mixing with the sound of a shower being turned on.

Usagi leant against the grimy wall of the shower she was standing in, the hot water beating down on her head and running down her face, her eyes tightly closed. She had been standing still like this for several minutes now, the dirt of the night long washed away, her fingers already becoming wrinkled from the water. But standing there felt so good, she felt as if the water was washing away all the pain and all the questions, her mind only filled with the pitter patter sound the water made. Glancing down at her hand she couldn't help but blush. The pitter patter, yes, and his touch. It had been nothing but a small gesture, she reminded herself, it was just a hand upon hers. Yet that small movement and the warmth in his eyes had made her heart beat oh so much faster. It was stupid, she reminded herself. She had been touched by so many men by now, a brush of a hand against hers was so innocent that it shouldn't even be worth mentioning. And yet ... Usagi pushed herself away from the wall she was leaning against to turn on the cold water, gasping as the temperature turned icy cold, before finally turning the water off.

Wringing out her hair, she watched herself in the mirror opposite the shower. She looked pale and tired, almost drawn out. She had adjusted the rhythm of her life to those of the creatures of the night a long time ago, rarely going to bed before the sun rose. But the sun had risen quite some time ago by now, and the night's events left her feeling exhausted. She had fought five vampires after all, saved a life and drunk half a bottle of whiskey. Oh, and then there was the anniversary of the worst day of her life and him of course. She grimaced at herself in the mirror. Her appearance had hardly changed over the past century, time leaving no mark upon her. Her face was still free of wrinkles, her body firm and youthful. The only marks time had left were some of the nastier scars she had received so far, some she had inflicted upon herself, not even time managing to heal them completely. The only part of her body that had somehow kept track of time and had changed accordingly was her hair. It didn't look like the gray or the white of old age, but rather held a silvery glow, giving it the look of spun moonlight. It seemed to have remembered that Usagi was supposed to be Neo-Queen Serenity by now. She hated this daily reminder and had therefore long stopped wearing her hair in her signature hairstyle.

Wrapping herself up in a towel, she padded out into the rest of the apartment, where she saw Seiya sitting at the small, wobbly table that was placed between the kitchen counter and the bed. She sat down at the edge of the bed gingerly, her arms wrapped around herself.

"This was one of the first places I lived in on my own in Tokyo."

"It's ... uhm ... nice," Seiya tried, his voice horribly unconvincing. Usagi couldn't help but laugh.

"Don't lie, I know it's not. It's horrible. But so was life back then, so it fits, really," she said, before sinking down unto her side on the bed, surveying her surroundings. The truth was, that the place had seen even worse days. Back when she had lived here, it had been even messier, she hadn't given a damn about what the place looked like. She grimaced when she though of the state the kitchen sink had been in. The new life forms festering there had probably been enough for a lab experiment.

"Do you want some coffee as well?" Seiya asked her, groping around for something to say, but finding little else than that piece of small talk.

"No, thanks. I'd rather close my eyes for a bit if that's OK," she answered.

"Sure. Of course it is."

Usagi nodded in thanks, her eyes closed, sleep already snatching at her.

Seiya watched her drift off to sleep within minutes. She hadn't even bothered to get beneath the blanket. He sighed. There was so much to say, so much to ask, so much to find out. And here he was sitting, in a dingy apartment, a cup of coffee in his hands, not being able to do anything. He felt restless again. He had travelled so far, running from the walls of a life he couldn't lead closing in on him. And now he sat here, different walls now closing in on him instead. He grimaced as he drank the coffee, unused to its bitter taste. The coffee wasn't any good as it was, but he hadn't drunk any in almost a decade. Making a face, he put the cup down again on the wobbly table's surface which was chipped in many places.

There wasn't much to the room, and he knew he couldn't stand just sitting there for the next few hours or so until Usagi woke up again. So he walked over to a forlorn bookcase standing a few meters away from him beside a dressing table, the only other pieces of furniture in the room. The bookcase was stuffed with magazines, CDs, DVDs, maps and what not, all of it covered in a thick layer of dust. It seemed like she really hadn't been here in a long time. Pulling out things at random, he gathered them in his arms, grabbing everything that looked interesting. He was about to head back to the table, when he spotted a certain CD. A small grin spread across his face, as he pulled a slim CD out of the bookcase, his own face staring back at him. It wasn't their album, it was only their Nagareboshi He single. He grabbed it too, before walking back to the table and his disgusting coffee.

Strange, he thought, as he turned the CD over in his hands. How he had loved making music all those years ago. He had been driven by desperateness, pain pushing him forwards more than anything else, but beneath it all he had loved their life back then. The music and all the people in their lives just felt so right, he knew that this was something he was good at, something that fulfilled him, something that he didn't mind doing at all. But back on Kinmoku there hadn't been any time or place for this sort of thing. He opened the CD, softly touching the tattered looking booklet. Flipping through it he couldn't help but smile. Oh, how young they'd all been! Yaten stared up slightly arrogantly at him, and Taiki's serious gaze bore into him. And there he was, looking much more boyish than he did now, a teasing smile playing around his lips. Smiling silently to himself, he put the CD to the side, hoping that he'd have the chance to listen to it later on.

Usagi hadn't really used her bookcase for books, he noticed, as he leaved through all sorts of magazines, scraps of paper, old newspapers, maps, not only of Japan, but America and Europe, and notebooks of all shapes and sizes. A particularly old and tattered one caught his eye, it looked just like the notebooks they had used when going to high school together. He flipped it open, skimming over the many pages filled with what looked like very old newspaper clippings. His eyes narrowed, as he realized they all covered the same topic, the murder of nine people. He flipped the pages faster, only reading the headlines. It seemed as if the whole notebook was filled with newspaper clippings like these. Why had Usagi been so morbidly fascinated by this? He went back to the beginning of the notebook, and started reading an entire article, swallowing hard when he stumbled across the names of the victims, names of people he had known himself. He checked the date of the newspaper clipping: April 17th 1997. Wasn't today April the 17th as well?

Seiya's brows furrowed as he read on and on, moving from one newspaper clipping to the next, reading through everything as fast as he could, reading how nine people had all died on said April 17th, all practically slaughtered to death, leaving only one possibility to the police, murder. But there had been no visible connection between all nine of them – certainly, some of them had known each other, gone to school together or lived together, but there was no link tying them all together. And yet they had all died in exactly the same way at the same time. The case was never solved, the police never being able to find that missing link.

Seiya felt the bile rise in his throat, the horrible coffee he had drunk earlier not really helping. No, ... No, it couldn't be. There was no possibility that what the newspaper was saying was actually true! They were Sailor Senshi, they'd faced the greatest evils of the galaxies together, why would they all just die like that? And if something had happened to them, why hadn't they heard about it on Kinmoku? Why hadn't they felt the light of so many star seeds dying at once? Seiya shuddered, as he closed the notebook in front of him, pushing it as far away from him as he could, eyeing it warily. But ... Why was she alone then? Why were they staying in this horrible, dingy place that had obviously once been where she lived? Why had she been so surprised about him being alive? But no, no, no, it can't be possible, he tried to convince himself, as his mind wrestled with his thoughts.

He raised his eyes to look across the room at her. She had curled up into a ball, her arms still hugging herself. She looked so small and almost innocent again lying there, no thoughts marring her face, her damp hair spread around her. Walking over towards her, he placed a blanket across her, tucking it in slightly at her sides, before sitting down at the edge of the bed. Could it be true after all? Was she the only one left? And here he thought life had been treating him badly. He raised his hand slowly, and brushed his hand gently against her soft cheek.

She stirred, pulling the blanket tightly around herself and shifted unto her back. She muttered inaudible words, shifting uneasily around, bumping into Seiya's leg. Her brows furrowed in her sleep before her eyes blinked slowly, and she stared up at his face.

Usagi's head felt as if it was filled with slush, her thoughts were heavy and slow and sluggish. The softness of the blanket around her felt good, but the obstacle in her way as she had stretched irritated her. Was there someone in bed with her? She had developed the rule of never letting acquaintances stay over. When she had first sought out men, hungering for their touch, hungering for something they could never fulfil, she hadn't known any better yet, and let them stay. But she soon found out that she couldn't stand seeing their faces once she had gotten from them what she wanted or needed. So what was someone doing beside her? Her eyes opened groggily, as she focused on the man sitting close to her. Oh, it was him, that was OK then, she told her mind, further thought dying out as she drifted off again to slumber.

Seiya reached out hesitantly, not sure if he dared touch her again. But his palm found the side of her face, his fingers gently brushing against her cheek again, moving up to stroke her forehead.

"I'm so sorry, Usagi," he muttered softly.

She turned over, shuffling closer to him and buried her face in his leg as an answer.


	8. Chapter 8

**Bloodstained**

Chapter 8

By Greta

* * *

_1997_

* * *

Usagi was sitting on the edge of a large, jagged cliff overlooking the sea. The waves were rolling in on the shore softly, their swooshing noise soothing to the ears. But Usagi didn't care much for the view. She was sitting with her knees brought up to her chest, her arms wrapped around her legs. Her head was bent low, her forehead resting against her knees. Tears were rolling down her face, leaving small, damp spots on the pants she was wearing. What was the use of running away if what she was trying to run away from kept following her?

She had left home four months ago, and nothing had changed so far. Sure, she was on the move all the time, so that her restless feet at least now had a place to go. She had travelled all over Japan by now, getting on the nearest bus or train as soon as she felt she couldn't stand the place she had landed at anymore. But apart from the changes in the scenery it felt as if nothing had changed ever since she had left Tokyo. She regularly found that another day had gone by, with her having done nothing else than stare fixedly on a spot far away in the distance. If she closed her eyes, memories washed over her. If she left her eyes open, there was always something in her vicinity that triggered the memories just the same. Her brain only needed the smallest of impulses for this, just like today. Sitting by the sea, listening to the waves rolling in, had made her think of Michiru and of her beauty, of how her hair had always fallen down her back in gentle waves, of how Haruka would brush a hand through it from time to time. Or yesterday. She had stood in front of a shop window for such a long time, that the owner had finally come out and had invited her inside to try some of the cakes she was selling. Usagi had stared at her in horror, and had finally gone off without uttering another word. The sweet smell of cakes that were just being baked to perfection made her retch. Makoto would never bake one again.

So what was she to do? Running away, trying to deny who she was and where she had come from was obviously not working. And she knew that she couldn't go on like this forever. Her body was exhausted, and yet her mind kept driving her on, not allowing her a moment's rest. She couldn't keep doing this for much longer, she'd go crazy, she knew that much.

Her left hand tightened around a heart-shaped brooch she was carrying with her in the pocket of her pants. When packing her small duffel bag, she hadn't been planning on taking the brooch along. But she had grabbed it instinctively, just as she had done every day for the last few years now. She raised the heart-shaped object slowly to the height of her face. How innocently it sparkled in the warm afternoon sun! The Silver Crystal reflected its warm rays.

"Moon Eternal ... Make ... Up ..." Usagi whispered, even though she already knew that it was fruitless. She hadn't tried using the brooch's power to transform until many days after she had stumbled from Haruka and Michiru's house to Rei's Shinto Temple, and had finally come to realize that not only Mamoru and her Outer Senshi, but also her closest group of friends had died. But nothing had happened when she had finally tried to transform – or at least nothing that she had been expecting to happen. Pain like she had never experienced before in her life had risen in her chest, making her fall to her knees and gasp for air. It had felt as if something had started clawing at her insides, it had felt as if it was trying to eat her alive, inside out. She had clutched at her chest, coughing harshly, praying that it would stop. As the pain became blinding, she had loosened her grip on the brooch, making it fall to the ground. And just like that, the pain had stopped as suddenly as it had started.

But not even that happened anymore as she whispered those four words again. Usagi glared down at the brooch that was clasped in her trembling fingers so tightly that her knuckles were showing. She'd even gladly take the pain over no reaction now. The silence of the one thing she had come to rely on most was more than she could take.

"Damn you ..." she whispered under her breath. "Damn you! Damn you, you stupid thing! Work! Just work again!" she continued, her voice rising to a hysterical screech as she brought the locket down on the hard stone she was sitting on. Once she had started doing so, she couldn't seem to stop, bringing the little heart-shaped trinket down on the rock again and again, until it finally cracked, the Silver Crystal rolling off to the side a little, away from the shards of what was once Usagi's Eternal Moon brooch.

"Why won't you work anymore?" she whispered, as her fingers closed around the Silver Crystal, her star seed, the very essence of who she was, of who she had become over the last few years. "Why?"

But the Crystal wouldn't answer her desperate plea.

She knew she couldn't go on like this. She needed to find answers.

* * *

She was back in Tokyo. It seemed natural to start her search for answers here where it hat all happened. She was wandering around the streets aimlessly, unsure of where to start.

It wasn't until she stopped in front of the gates of a temple she knew all too well that she snapped out of her reverie. Usagi's hands clasped around the bars of the iron gates in front of her, as she watched a young priestess sweeping the stone steps of the temple serenely. It was windy today, and leaves whirled around her, her yukata swaying in the wind. Two black birds were sitting on the branches of a tree that towered high above the others in the vast courtyard. Usagi watched the birds sit there, their small bodies completely unmoving, the wind only ruffling their feathers from time to time. Usagi slipped the doors of the gate open once the young priestess had finished sweeping the steps and had gone off to another corner of the courtyard. The two ravens spread their wings and took flight as soon as she did this, swooping down from their branch, landing softly on Usagi's shoulders.

Usagi didn't scream in surprise or swat at them. Their weight felt warm on her shoulders.

"Hello Phobos, Deimos", she greeted them, brushing one hand softly against the wing of the bird that was sitting on her right shoulder. "You miss her too, don't you?"

The bird cawed loudly.

"Can I help you?" The young priestess had reappeared and was walking towards Usagi, a polite smile on her face. Her gaze gave away that she was surprised to see the birds sitting on the blonde girl's shoulders like that. "I'm sorry about the ravens, Miss," she said, now close enough to Usagi so she could swat at the birds, making a shooing noise.

"No, it's okay, really. I know them," Usagi said. But Phobos and Deimos had taken flight again, circling high above their heads for a minute or so before settling on the branch of the tree again.

The young priestess looked taken aback. She looked no younger than 14, her thick auburn hair tied back into a braid. Usagi remembered seeing her from time to time when she had visited Rei in the past few years. She had been a protege of Rei's, a very talented young priestess.

"Oh, you do? They belonged to a shinto priestess of our temple."

"I know."

No more needed to be said. The young girl was staring at Usagi levelly, her hands still clasped around the handle of the broom she had used to sweep the steps with. They stood in silence for several minutes. The young priestess finally broke it by saying softly, "I'm not sure if I can help you."

Usagi swallowed hard, nodding. "I know ... But you have to try. Please." Her voice was thick with desperation.

The young girl nodded slowly, signalling at the birds. They came flying back towards them again, one landing on her shoulder, the other on Usagi's. "I really don't know if I can help you. But Phobos and Deimos might, they were with her when it happened." She walked up the stairs of the Temple, leading the way. It wasn't until she had reached the top step that she had noticed that Usagi had not followed her. The blonde girl was standing with her right foot on the bottom most step, her hands curled into fists, her body trembling.

Usagi suddenly wasn't so sure anymore if she dared to walk up these stairs and confront the all too fresh memories.

Back in April, it had taken her hours to finally find the strength to get up from the floor she had slumped down on after finding Haruka, Michiru, Setsuna and Hotaru all dead in the house they had been living in together. As she had stumbled away from them, she knew that her last chance was this temple. If some terrible new enemy had indeed reached them then her friends, her Inner Senshi, were surely already discussing about what to do, Ami analysing the situation using science, Rei calling upon her fire using powers not so easily explained, Makoto flexing her fists, ready to fight, Minako brooding about what their next step should be with Artemis and Luna. But as much as she had hoped and wished and prayed, the scene that she had imagined, the scene that she had hoped and prayed for had not meet her eyes when she finally made it to the temple. She had only found more blood.

She could feel the raven's claws tightening on her shoulder as she stood there, the horrible scene replaying itself in her head. There was no use to it. She had to do this. If her magic wasn't helping her, then maybe somebody else's could.


	9. Chapter 9

Just to clear this up: this story is based on the manga storyline concerning quite a few things, like their age (they would all have been 17 or 18 in 1997, not 16), the Sailor Power Guardians (like Phobos and Deimos), the Chaos plotline, all of them being reborn at the end of the story inside the Galaxy Cauldron and Usagi being a bit more mature and not quite as childish as in the anime. Apart from that I tend to stick to the anime :-)

* * *

**Bloodstained**

Chapter 9

By Greta

* * *

_2097_

* * *

Zachariah was holding out one arm at the height of his face, studying the necklace he had taken with him intently. His hands were wrapped around the silver chain, making the crystal dangling from it twirl forth and fro. It was a round crystal, large enough, but he doubted that it was worth much. He didn't know much of jewelry, but the crystal felt oddly light for its size and didn't sparkle or shine spectacularly like one would assume from a jewel of that size. It was probably nothing more than cheap glass, he pondered, shaped to look like something worth owning, like a diamond perhaps. He sighed. There went his chances of trying to blackmail the woman he had taken the necklace from. He couldn't help but wonder why she'd hold on to a useless object like that.

Letting the crystal roll across his palm, he leant back, closing his eyes. The cushions of the shabby, velvet covered sofa felt good beneath his sore back. He could still feel the aftermath of the fight in his bones, the silver-haired fighter not really having gone easy on him after all. The music of the club he was in pounded loudly in his ears, the low bass of the beat vibrating throughout his body. The low lights illuminating the place dimly danced behind his eyelids as he breathed in deeply, trying to relax against the sofa. He loved fighting that woman, but she always left his shoulders feeling tense and his senses heightened. It had been hours since their fight and still he could find no sleep. He had left his home after rolling around in bed uselessly for hours and had come here instead, a club which knew no closing hour, a club for the restless or desperate, though the two went hand in hand often enough. It was easily accessible through the sewer systems and therefore the perfect getaway for Zachariah.

Prying one eye open, he let his gaze wander around. The place was still packed, even though the sun had surely long risen outside. He was sitting off to the side of the bar, where a bully looking man was pouring out a clear liquid into a long row of shot glasses. Three women that were kneeling down beside a low, not too clean and rickety table that stood between his sofa and more armchairs were partly blocking his view of the dance floor, where bodies were still grinding. The women were snorting lines of white powder that were precisely lined up in front of them.

Zachariah's gaze passed over the women without really noticing them, and instead focused on a tall, slim man whose blonde hair was tied back into a braid. He was nearly at his feet, ready to walk over towards him, as the other man turned around and revealed himself to be a stranger. The vampire slumped back down again. His mind had been preoccupied with the fight he had encountered earlier, but now that he had been reminded of Nuncio, he couldn't help but wonder where he was. He had forgotten all about meeting him up on the forlorn hill as he had made his hasty getaway from probable death. Oh well, he'd show up eventually. This club was a favourite of Zachariah's, Nuncio would know where to find him.

He leant back again on the sofa and closed his eyes, sighing. He really wished that he'd finally get tired.

He looked up again as he felt the cushions shift beneath him due to extra weight settling on them. One of the three women that had knelt down by the table had sat down beside him, smiling seductively, pressing herself up against him. He raised an eyebrow questioningly at her.

„Hey there," she giggled, brushing a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear.

„Hey."

„My friends noticed that you were all alone over here. Need some company?" she asked, batting her lashes flirtatiously, before locking arms with him, squeezing his upper arm tightly in what she obviously thought to be a sexy way. He yelped and pushed her back harshly, cursing.

„Stop it, you cunt," he spat at her, slipping off his leather jacket to reveal his bandaged arm. He flinched as he checked his bandages.

„Oh, I'm so sorry, baby!" she gasped in shock as she saw his arm, the bandage still bloody from earlier.

„Yeah, whatever," Zachariah growled beneath his breath, slipping his jacket back on after having checked that the wound he had received earlier that night hadn't started bleeding again.

„No, I'm really sorry," she said. „Want me to make it up to you?" But she didn't wait for an answer, as she hitched up her short skirt even higher and sat down on his lap, smiling at him. Her outfit was skimpy to say the least, leaving nothing to the imagination, and she was practically shoving his cleavage into his face. But Zachariah rolled his eyes at her, unimpressed. The girl took no notice of this and leant down, kissing his neck, her hands roaming over his firm chest. „You're sexy," she breathed into his ear.

„Thanks. But you're really not my type," he replied. „I rarely play with girls, if you get my drift."

The girl drew back, her lips in a pout. „But I've seen you here before, with girls too."

„Well, I said rarely, right? Not never. But you belong in the never category, sorry," he went on, smiling playfully at her.

She stared at him, mouth agape. Zachariah used his chance and grabbed her face towards him, bending her head to the side roughly, before biting her neck. He held his hand tightly over her mouth so her friends couldn't hear her panicked screams. He started drinking deeply, hungrily, thinking that maybe breakfast would help him find sleep at last.

* * *

Usagi woke up with a start, her eyes wide. She noticed how the spare furniture of the room was casting long shadows across the floor, a thing it had not done when she had fallen asleep. Her eyes continued to the bedside table, where an old and battered looking alarm clock stood, but its hands had long stopped moving. She cursed softly under her breath, reminding herself that it had been ages since she'd been to the place after all. But she had enough reasons for not returning often; bad memories haunted these walls. She made to move towards the edge of the bed to grope around for her pants, as she always kept a wristwatch in her pockets, but stopped when she felt the shifting of a body beside her. Her eyes wide, she spun her head around.

Seiya was lying on the bed's other side, some centimetres away from her. He was lying on his side, facing her, his head resting on his arm. His even breath told her that he too had fallen asleep. Usagi instinctively backed away as far as she could, stopping only when she nearly toppled off the other side of the bed. Glancing down at herself, she found that she was still wrapped in the towel from earlier and strangely a blanket, even though she couldn't remember getting beneath one. Breathing out deeply, she forced her shoulders to relax. No enemy was creeping up on her, no unknown one-night stand was there to remind her of something she regretted and would rather forget. She slowly settled down back unto the mattress, mirroring his position. How strange this was, she thought.

It had been such a long time since she had last seen this person! She couldn't help but wonder how she could still recognize him after all this time.

Usagi stopped to laugh coldly at her own ponderings. Hadn't she come to fear her memories over the past years like nothing else? For they were cruel and knew no mercy: she could still remember every detail of what she liked to call her old life. The sound of Minako's gurgling laughter and the twinkle in her blue eyes as she locked arms with Usagi. The smell of roses that always surrounded Makoto and the home made lunches she would bring along just for them, her friends, and the delicious taste of it all. The rustling of books whenever Ami was near, her warm smile always spreading all the way to her eyes, as she peered at Usagi over the rim of her glasses. Rei sweeping the steps of her Shinto Temple, her piercing gazing boring straight into one's soul. She could recall it all perfectly. She had long accepted that she couldn't forget these things, that her mind treasured each and every single memory and kept them tucked away in a corner of her brain she knew that existed but couldn't control.

And as she stared at this man who was nearly a stranger after all this time but still felt oddly familiar, memories she didn't knew still existed emerged. Hadn't he always called her Odango Atama, teasing her, yet always making her laugh? She remembered screams on a rollercoaster and dancing close to each other, vows of protection and hands pushing her out of harms way, admiration and exasperation. And somehow these memories left no bitter-sweet taste, very much unlike the others which always did, for here he was, lying across from her, breathing softly, very clearly alive.

Usagi shook her head, a rattled breath racking her body, as she pushed herself up from the bed. Grabbing the pile of clothes that was lying beside the bed she walked off to the bathroom, returning minutes later, dressed in the black skin-tight jeans and the light blue tank top she had worn the night before. Standing in the entrance of the bathroom door, she felt unsure of what to do next. Should she wake him up? But then, he was probably tired from his journey. So should she let him sleep? But she really didn't feel like staying here much longer. Sighing, she turned to the small room's kitchen and decided to make some more coffee first of all. Her rumbling stomach reminded her that breakfast, if it could still be called that at this time of the day, was much desired as well.

Filling her cup, she roamed the empty cabinets, looking for some sugar to make the hot liquid somewhat more drinkable. How long had it been since she had last come to this place? She truly couldn't remember. _Strange_, she thought, _how everything from one hundred years ago seems crystal clear, and everything that came afterwards isn't._

She had first run away from home soon after it had all happened, but had returned only a few months later to Tokyo, searching for answers to the many questions burning inside of her. After her stop at the Shinto Temple, she'd made the mistake of going back home to her parent's house, where her father had insisted on her getting psychiatric help. It had ended with her being locked up in an asylum. Her parents had meant well, she knew that. They too hadn't known what to do, they too had been desperate. And at first she hadn't even really objected about being at the asylum. People hadn't minded her staring into space blankly for days at a time, and she had been able to weep openly at night, noises worse by far echoing through the corridors. No one had really bothered her there, she had food and a warm bed, and there had been a park outside where she was able to walk in circles all day long. But then the medication had started kicking in, dulling her memories, making her forget things. Yes, those memories were what kept her up each night, what filled her mind all day, what would leave her no peace. But they had become all there was left of her friends, of her loved ones, and she would allow no one to touch them. So she had run away again. This time, years and years had passed before she had set a foot in Tokyo again. But when she finally had, this had been one of the first places she had been able to call her own.

But no, there was no sugar to be found in the small apartment's cupboards, let alone anything edible. Sighing, she made to sit down at the rickety table, but stopped halfway to it. Spread on its surface lay an old notebook, opened somewhere in its middle, newspaper clippings she hadn't seen in forever spilling from it.

Usagi dropped heavily on to the chair, her eyes wide. It had ben decades since she had last leafed through this notebook, having shoved it to the farthest corner of the lone bookcase that stood in the room. How ... ? Her head snapped up to look across the room at Seiya, who was still lying on her bed. So he had found it ...

„Well, at least I don't have to explain so much now," she whispered to herself, laughing hollowly. Her hand shook slightly as she flipped through the pages, her eyes lingering on the yellowing clippings of paper. Yes, she had never been able to forget, and yes, memories still haunted her more often than not. But she had tried to arrange herself with them, especially when it had first dawned on her a few decades ago that ageing and death were avoiding her the best they could.. They – she and her mind - had struck the compromise of not thinking about that horrible day in April one hundred years ago any more. Accepting that everyone was dead had become much easier when she had stopped her mind from going off to that horrible bloodstained corner of her memories, making it easier to focus on all the good memories she had of her friends. But the treasure box in which she kept her memories had already started to unlock earlier that day up on the forlorn hill.

As she sat there, her fingers passing over pictures of a blood splattered wall in Mamoru's old apartment and of the bloodstained stairs of Rei's Temple, she felt her control over that locked away part of her memory slipping away once more. She could practically feel the turn of the key of the box that hed her memories and the creaking of ist lid. She brought her fist down hard on the table, her other hand at her forehead. _Damn it_, she thought. She had been getting on along so well in the last few years! But this unnecessary anniversary had made her weak. Hadn't she promised herself not to cry anymore? She had. Hadn't she promised herself to be strong? She had.

So what was she doing right now, sitting helplessly at a table, tears stinging at her eyes because of some old newspaper clipping? Usagi closed her eyes, trying to shut away the flood of memories, trying to force them back into their corner far off in the back of her mind. Her hands covered her face, her fingers clenched into fists, as she felt hot tears rise. „Go away," she whispered to her memories. She stayed like this for what felt like minutes, repeating those words beneath her breath.

But hands softly closed around her wrists, pulling them away from her face.

Seiya looked slightly tousled from sleep, his hair slightly unkempt. He had woken with a start when Usagi had brought down her fist on the table, the loud sound piercing through his dreamless slumber like a lone bullet. But his eyes were alert, and he looked concerned. „What's wrong, Odango? Why are you crying?"

Usagi opened her mouth, ready to brush him off, but no words came to her for a few moments. She averted her eyes from the newspaper, opting to glance somewhere to the side instead. She knew that if she looked up to see a sympathetic face staring back at her she would really start bawling. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to laugh before roughly withdrawing her hands from his grasp. „I'm not crying. I stopped crying a long time ago. There was no use in it," she said, her voice harder than she maybe intended it to be.

Seiya didn't say anything else. What a stupid question of him to ask, he told himself. And how stupid of him to forget the notebook that was still lying on the table! _You're such a moron,_ he told himself.

Cursing at himself some more, he sat down at the table as well. Usagi was still not looking at him, her eyes focused on her hands that were clasped around the cup of coffee. What had he been expecting? That she would willingly fall into his arms and seek comfort there, like some part of him wished? He hadn't known what to expect from his visit to start with, but at least he had been able to realistically guess what was awaiting him, what could be done and what couldn't. Were he facing Neo-Queen Serenity right now, the reunion would have been short and sweet. He would have feasted his eyes on her, soaked up the sound of her sweet voice, basked in her warm glow, and it would have been enough for him. He would have left her, his heart aglow from her once more. Or so he liked to tell himself. He had known what was waiting him – the girl his heart still obsessed over would now be a married woman, spending her life with the man she was destined for and loved. There was no space for what if's and twists in the story in that scenario, not even his wildest dreams had been able to concoct up anything like that. He didn't mind this realization, for this way he would at least not be disappointed when leaving her once more.

But now? Seeing her and talking to her seemed to be nothing else than the beginning of it. He had to help her, support her, comfort her, do something useful at least, even though he had no clue what that was supposed to be. But coming over to simply say hi and have some friendly chit-chat was utterly out of the question.

Usagi was staring straight ahead, trying to pull her thoughts out of the swamp of memories she had set foot in. „You said you were 27," she burst out, finally breaking the silence that had settled uncomfortably between them. The words lingered awkwardly in the air for a moment, but Seiya grabbed the chance she was offering him to finally start a conversation gladly.

„Yeah, I am. I'm turning 28 this year."

Usagi's brow furrowed at this. „But ... I don't understand it ... How?"

Seiya wasn't sure of how to respond to this. What was there to question? „Well, because I just am ... It's nearly ten years since we left Earth after all."

Usagi couldn't help but laugh at his statement, the slightly hysterical edge to it not lost to him. „Ten years?" she repeated.

Seiya nodded, and Usagi's laughter ebbed away. She shook her head from side to side in silent disbelief. „Odango ... Odango stop it, you're freaking me out. Just tell me what's going on here," he said pleadingly.

Usagi stopped shaking her head to stare at him, her blue eyes boring into his. She pushed the notebook across the table towards him. „You obviously already found out most of what's going on here anyway ... But did you look at the date?"

Seiya pulled the notebook towards him, turning it so he could read it. „Well, they all date back to April 1997," he said, still not sure what she was getting it. They – he, Yaten, Taiki and his Princess – had left only a few months earlier that year.

„Exactly." Usagi nodded.

„So?"

„And it's not 2007, Seiya. It's 2097 right now."

Seiya stared at her in disbelief. That would mean that not ten, but one hundred years had passed since he had last set foot on Earth. „But it's impossible," he muttered slowly.

„Those are exactly my thoughts."

„No, honestly, it's impossible. It's really been only ten years, no more and no less, for me since I last saw you, Odango," Seiya said slowly, his eyes wide in disbelief. Had he missed something back home? Was she making fun of him? What she was saying was making no sense whatsoever to him.

Usagi didn't answer him, swirling the coffee around in her cup. Ten years versus one hundred years. There was really only one explanation to this.

„Do you ... Do you have a Guardian of Time in your galaxy, Seiya?"

Seiya stared at her questioningly. Surely she didn't have to ask such a question, the information shouldn't be new to her. „Time is consistent across the universe. So no, because there is only one Guardian of Time ..."

Usagi smiled softly as she closed her eyes, Setsuna's serious gaze appearing before her. Yes, the Guardian of Time and Space had been one of her friends, one of her fellow senshi. Usagi had never pretended to understand the complex matters that had been part of Sailor Pluto's duties, always taking for granted what the lone senshi had been doing.

„And Setsuna is dead, like all the others. There's no one guarding the Gates of Time anymore. That must have messed up the flow of time in the different galaxies, ..." she said softly. It was the only explanation she could come up with, but there was no doubt in her mind that it was the only explanation that could make sense of this particular mess anyways.

„But, but ... Why is there no one that's taken her place?" Seiya asked in disbelief. No one was guarding the Gates of Time! The Soldier in him jumped nervously upon hearing those words. How could they just sit there calmly, talking over cups of coffee? His fingers twitched, wanting to seize his star locket, transform and do something about this less than desirable situation.

„Because there's literally no one left but me. And it took me forever to realize that the Gates were unguarded anyways, they had been unguarded for such a long time already ... It first dawned on me that things might have become messed up when vampires started appearing. But there wasn't much I could have done anyway. The Gates won't just accept any guardian. And ... And the Soldier of Time and Space hasn't been reborn yet. So there's just no one to do it."

„And that's why ..."

„And that's why time seems to be doing what it wants, going faster here or slower for you, I don't know."

„But if it's 2097 ..." Seiya continued, only to stop in mid-speech. If it really was true, if so much time had really passed here on Earth, then Usagi ... „Then you'd be one hundred years older."

Usagi stared levelly at him. „I am."

It was Seiya's turn to mutter, „But how?"

„Because I just am," she answered, mirroring his own answer from before.

Seiya swallowed hard, his stricken gaze resting on her face that hardly looked a day older than when he had last seen it. He had thought that a decade had made him wiser, that the experiences had taught him to grow up. But here was Usagi, having experienced ten times as much. But one much more pressing matter was still left unexplained. Dare he ask it? He felt that if he did, he not only risked her tears but that she would shun him for asking it. The sadness that emanated from her was traced with feelings so dark that he inwardly shuddered. But there was no escaping it, he couldn't not ask.

„But how – why are they all dead?"

Usagi didn't answer for a long time. „Everyone of course kept believing that it was murder ..." she finally started after a few more minutes of silence, her words chosen carefully. „But I always knew that no human being had the power to do this to them. No one could be that cruel." Usagi stopped once more, the silence that was pressing in on them heavy with the unanswered questions. „The media kept talking about the missing link, the one thing that tied it all together and that would finally lead to the solution. I couldn't just go and tell them, hey, that missing link you're looking for is me."

„But it's not your fault –"

„No, it is. It really is. The dark exists because of the light, and the light exists because of the dark, it's been like that since the beginning of time. The light of the Silver Crystal was the thing that kept attracting Chaos, that kept calling to it. All the enemies we faced, they were all some form of Chaos. If it hadn't been for me and that stupid light of mine, we might never have had to fight so much."

Seiya reached across the table, placing his hands over hers which were still holding the coffee mug tightly. They felt cold and clammy. She didn't react to his touch.

„Don't say things like that. Your light is like nothing else in this universe. It shines brightly and warmly, giving everyone hope they have long forgotten. If it hadn't been for you, Chaos would never have been defeated."

„Well, that didn't save them, did it?" she said slowly, pain oozing from her words. „If it hadn't been for me, Chaos would never have sought us out so much. If it hadn't been for me defeating it over and over again, it wouldn't have decided to take revenge on us. If it hadn't been for me, Chaos wouldn't have killed them all like that. It hid inside our starseeds when we were all reborn after the final battle. It hid and waited for the time where we were unprepared and attacked us from our very cores, from the very inside ..." She finally blinked, looking up from the spot somewhere off in the far distance she had been losing herself in.

Seiya was staring at her, mouth slightly agape. Chaos? The Chaos that had been defeated all those years ago in the final battle where had fought together, side by side?

But further conversation was interrupted by a loud knock that came from the apartment's door. Usagi practically jumped up from her chair, her head whipping to stare at the noise's origin. How could anyone know that she had come back to this place? She placed a finger at her lips to signal Seiya to be silent, before creeping towards the door as quietly as she could, grabbing the silver dagger that still lay in the kitchen on her way towards the door.

The knock sounded again, this time accompanied by an old, fragile sounding voice. „Hello? Tsukino-san, I know you're in there!"

Usagi hid the dagger behind her back as she opened the door. Standing there was a small, old woman, her face heavily wrinkled, her wisps of white hair pulled back into a tight bun. The woman was so small, that Usagi had to look down on her.

„It's been forever since I last saw you, Tsukino-san! I would have expected you to at least say hello."

„Eh, I'm – I'm very sorry," Usagi managed a small embarrassedlaugh. „But we were just checking to see that – that, uhm, everything was still in order here. We're about to leave anyway."

„We?" The woman had not missed Usagi's use of the word, and peered around Usagi who was largely blocking the view into the the small room behind her. „I guess that means another man, eh? Well it figures," she continued meanly, her voice cheerful upon finding this tasty piece of gossip.

„It's none of your business," Usagi said hotly, feeling her face flush with colour. „Well, we've said hello," she continued, her voice less friendly than before, moving to close the door again. „Or is there anything else you needed?"

„No no, I was just wondering what you where up to," the old woman replied, cackling gleefully.

„Well then, goodnight."

„My, you are an awfully rude and –"

But Usagi did not care to find out just what she was, closing the door in the old woman's face. Sighing, she leant against the door, listening as the old woman finally shuffled away.

Seiya couldn't help but chuckle at the scene. „What was that all about?"

„Oh, she's the landlady here. I have no idea anymore what her name is, but I remember how she was the nosiest person alive when I lived here. There was nothing that didn't interest her about her residents. At times I wondered why she let me stay... Some of the things I did here weren't exactly of my best behaviour," she muttered, her head still resting against the door, her eyes closed. „But somehow I think she was satisfied as long as her curiosity was satisfied. She only became unpleasant when she sensed that something was going on that she couldn't figure out," she said, her shoulders slumped. „She didn't even comment on my not having aged," Usagi chortled.

„What were you up to here that was so bad?" Seiya asked her, one eyebrow raised questioningly.

Usagi's eyes snapped open again to see that he too had gotten up, facing her an arm's length away.

„I'd rather not say," she answered slowly and truthfully, before hurrying to playfully add, „Or else I'll just destroy the picture you had in mind of me and run away to never return again."

The picture he had had of her in his mind ... That glorious angel whose shining light had filled up his being and that had possessed a part a of his heart and soul all along. Was this woman he was facing anything like that? There was only one way to find out.

„I'm not going to leave you, Odango."

Zachariah stretched his arms behind his back, yawning. Breakfast had been just the thing to finally make him tired after all and he had spent the last hours sound asleep back at home. He had come a long way from sleeping in small, dingy lairs, where the only thing of importance had been to keep out of the sunlight. With his survival over the decades there had come a certain power. And with this power it had been easy to become someone of importance amongst the vampires that roamed Tokyo. Accordingly, he now dwelled in a grand house that practically reeked of old splendour. Persian carpets muffled his step, as he untangled himself from silken bedsheets and finally got up. He slowly walked to bathroom adjoined to his room, turning on the faucet to splash cold water into his face. Drying off his face, he glanced up at the mirror that hung above the sink. At times he wished that he still had a reflection. He turned away, sighing.

But he had barely walked another step, as a loud knock sounded on the door to his bedroom, before it was hastily thrown open. A young woman stood in the doorway. She was out of breath and looked as if she had been running quite a distance to reach him quickly. She rested against the door frame for a second, trying to regain her breath.

„Zachariah, I – I came as fast as I could, I, well, there's something –" she said, stumbling over the words.

„What? What's wrong?" he asked her, stepping out of the bathroom towards her.

„I just heard ... I heard that Nuncio is dead," she finally managed to say.

Zachariah stared at her, his eyes filled with horror. Had she really strung the words ‚dead' and ‚Nuncio' together into a sentence? „No ... No, you're lying, Kairos. You just made that up," Zachariah said, his voice disbelieving.

„Why should I, Zachariah?" she questioned.

„No, ... But, no, it's not possible," he whispered.

„I'm sorry, Zachariah," the young woman said, reaching out a hand, patting his shoulder softly. An unearthly sounding growl escaped his mouth, as he slapped her hand away roughly.

„Sorry? You're sorry? What good is that to me?" he yelled at her, his fists clenched.

„Hey, it's not my fault."

„Who did it?" he barked at her, not bothering to apologize for his previous tone. When she gave him no immediate answer, he screamed the question at her once more. „Who did it?"

„They ... Well, they said it was _her_."

„What? Silver?"

The young woman nodded. Zachariah roared once more, pushing her away from him harshly, sending her to the floor, before kicking hard at the nearest object he could find, which was an old, beautifully carved wooden chair. It splintered easily beneath his strength. An unknown rage filled Zachariah. How dare she! _How dare she do this!_ They, Zachariah and Nuncio, had been together from the very beginning. They had needed each other, depending on each other's strengths, trying to compensate each other's weaknesses. They had been together for decades. How dare she take away the person he cared for the most in the world?

With a mighty crash he upended the table next to the splintered chair, heavy tombs of books toppling to the ground. A glittering reflection of light caught his eye. It was the crystal he had taken from her, the one he had been studying so intently earlier on. He grabbed it with an angry yell and threw it against the wall with all his might. But the dainty crystal did not shatter. It bounced back off the wall, falling back on the ground, intact, twinkling innocently in the light.


End file.
